The Heart Wants What it Wants
by Neoyorquina
Summary: This story is the continuation of "An Ounce of Truth for Every Treason." In the previous story, Olivia got kidnapped and Fitz rescued her, but she was traumatized by the experience. In this story, Fitz and Olivia face new obstacles as their love is severely tested by forces close to home. Can love truly conquer all? Olivia and Fitz will soon find out.
1. Arrested Development

**_Hello Gladiators!_**  
**Welcome to the continuation of _"An Ounce of Truth for Every Treason."_**

The story so far in a nutshell: Olivia got kidnapped. Fitz rescued her but Olivia was traumatized by the experience. A mysterious man by the name of Farheed Davi orchestrated the whole thing with a little help from Billy Chambers, but they were never caught. In this story, Olivia finds out who was behind her kidnapping. But the solution to fixing this problem will bring Olivia into the orbit of another mysterious man who isn't exactly who he seems.

Meanwhile, because of the kidnapping, Fitz has decided life is too short to stay married to Mellie, so he has hired a lawyer to get him a divorce. However, neither Mellie nor Olivia know what he is planning because he hasn't mentioned a thing to them yet.

This story picks up exactly where "An Ounce of Truth¨ left off. Cyrus and James have adopted a baby and this chapter begins with a weekend baby shower/backyard BBQ that they have to celebrate the arrival of the baby.

Enjoy!

P.S. If you want to read the story from the very beginning, you can find **_"An Ounce of Truth for Every Treason"_** by clicking on my username. It's listed under my profile. Thanks!

* * *

**Chapter 1: Arrested Development**

Olivia was alone in James and Cyrus' kitchen, standing in front of the sink rinsing out her wine glass when she felt Fitz's presence. She slowly turned around, the water still running over her soapy hands, and saw Fitz leaning in the doorway smiling at her. "Hey," she said softly, giving him a gentle smile. "Hey," he answered back.

She turned around and shut off the faucet. She pulled a towel off a rack and started drying her hands while she looked straight ahead out of the kitchen window into the backyard where the James & Cyrus baby shower/BBQ was still going in full swing. Fitz came up behind her and although he didn't touch her, Olivia could feel the warmth radiating off his body. Her eyes fluttered closed as she inhaled deeply. _"Lord, please give me strength"_ she sent up a silent prayer. Although Fitz hadn't even touched her, she was already experiencing the initial intoxicating effect he always had on her.

Fitz lightly put his hands on Olivia's shoulders and followed her gaze straight ahead through the kitchen window at the happy scene outside. "This isn't a bad party. You having fun?"

Olivia nodded her head yes and asked, "And you?"

"Yes. It's nice to just hang out, relax and not be on the presidential clock," Fitz said, as he began to lightly massage her shoulders. "God, Liv, you're so tense. You really need to relax."

"Yeah, I know," she replied. Olivia was wearing an off the shoulder cashmere sweater and the combination of Fitz's touch with the soft fabric against her skin felt wonderful. _"mmm,_ that feels good."

Fitz continued to lightly knead Olivia's shoulders and her head dipped to the side exposing a beautiful expanse of neck. As Fitz looked down, the sight of Olivia's lovely neck elegantly tilted to the side with her delicate clavicle and bare shoulder on display was the most erotic sight, and it ignited a flame inside of him. He felt the blood rush from his head to his cock and his breathing became ragged. It was like she was offering up her neck to him like some sort of appetizer. Fitz licked his lips and fought the intense desire and temptation to lean over and attack her neck like a famished vampire. He stopped massaging her shoulders and instead ran a large hand from her shoulder up the side of her neck. The sensation of Fitz's rough, slightly calloused hand against Olivia's smooth creamy skin awakened something in her and a tremor rumbled through her body. She hadn't expected him to do that and it felt good.

Fitz exhaled. He wanted so desperately to kiss her, to ravage her, but he didn't want to scare her off. Not surprisingly, since returning from her ordeal in Pakistan, Olivia had been depressed and emotionally withdrawn. But in recent weeks, thanks to the support of friends, family and a little bit of therapy, she had been thawing out emotionally, little by little. But Fitz didn't want to do anything that would cause her to shut down and shut him out. He wrapped an arm tightly around her waist, hoping she wouldn't pull away anytime soon.

Still within the confines of his embrace, Olivia turned around and looked up at him. The intense sexual desire that was clouding Fitz's beautiful grey eyes was unmistakable. Olivia took his hand and brought it up to the side of her face. Still holding his hand, she rubbed her cheek across his palm and then she slowly turned her face so that she could kiss it. This foreplay was driving Fitz to the brink where he wasn't going to be able to restrain himself. Olivia, sensing this, continued to tease him as she slid her bottom lip up Fitz's middle finger. When her lip reached the tip, her mouth opened wide and then greedily clamped down and began sucking on his finger. Fitz gasped. Who knew that Olivia sucking his middle finger could be so incredibly hot?

Olivia continued to stare at him as she sucked his finger stroking it in and out of her mouth. Fitz wanted to take her right there. He pulled his finger out of Olivia's warm, wet mouth and then spun her around so that her back and butt were flush against him, doggy style. Olivia's hands dropped to the kitchen counter to support herself._ "Fitz…?!"_ she asked, the question left unspoken. His hand dropped to her waist and slid under her sweater. Olivia inhaled sharply as his hand moved slowly up her torso to her breasts. She was wearing a strapless bra and Fitz roughly pulled it down, exposing her tender chocolate peaks. Her nipples snapped to attention as he moved the palm of his hand back and forth over her breasts. _"Oh, Fitz…"_ she moaned as her body instinctively pushed back into Fitz's hard center. The bulge in his pants was huge and without realizing it, she began to grind into him.

A pool of moisture had formed between Olivia's legs. After all this time, it felt so good to be back in Fitz's arms like this with him doing sweet, sexy, naughty things to her body. A soft moan escaped Olivia's lips.

The sound of Olivia's moan was like a siren's call to Fitz's ears. He could no longer control himself. He didn't want to control himself. He wanted to have her. He needed to have her. He wanted to bury himself inside her.

Fitz moved a hand down south and pressed his palm against Olivia's crotch. She let out a whimper as he squeezed tight and then began to slowly rub her sex through her jeans. Impatient, he shoved his hand down the front of her pants. Olivia's panty was soaked and Fitz smiled at the thought that it was his touch that was making her gush like this. As if reading his mind, Olivia turned her head to look up at him and said with a pout, "It's not fair, I'm all wet and you're not."

Olivia turned around to face him and then went to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants.

The wait was finally over. His sweet baby was back. She had come back to him and was offering herself up to him. Fitz was so happy. He tilted Olivia's face up and was about to kiss her passionately when the sound of someone coughing and loudly clearing their throat interrupted the scene.

Olivia pulled away completely from Fitz and they both turned around to look at who was behind them. Standing in the kitchen doorway was their nemesis. "Ah, so there you are!" said Mellie in a fake cheery voice. "Fitz, I've been looking all over for you! Should've known I'd find you sniffing around Olivia like a dog in heat."

"Mellie!" Fitz yelled, smashing his fist down on the kitchen's granite countertop. "Would you please get the fuck out of here!" He angrily ground out the words through gritted teeth.

Olivia put her hand on Fitz's forearm and whispered, "don't make a scene. Just go with her."

Fitz was majorly pissed. The moment was completely ruined. He and Olivia were right on the verge of a breakthrough and Mellie, with her impeccably bad timing popped up, as always, to sabotage it. Why did it always come down to this? Why could he never ever get a moment's peace with the woman he loved?

"Are you coming? Sen. Weingold wants to talk to you about that legislation he's sponsoring," Mellie said, flashing her Stepford Wife smile.

Fitz sighed. "Mellie! This is a baby shower, not a political caucus!"

Olivia lightly stroked his arm and said in a low voice, _"It's OK. Go. We're OK, OK?"_ She looked up and gave him her best smile. Fitz grinned, his troubles momentarily forgotten thanks to Olivia's warm smile. He gave her a quick peck on the lips and then slipped a hand around back to lightly squeeze her firm ass. "OK, but I intend to pick up this conversation exactly where we left off, later," he said with a devilishly handsome smile and a wink.

Mellie, who was still standing in the doorway and was a witness to the entire scene, rolled her eyes. Fitz deliberately bumped Mellie's shoulder on his way out, as if to say, _get outta my way, beeyotch._

Mellie turned on her heel and walked right behind him, but not before shooting Olivia a look of disgust.

Olivia sighed and shook her head. Mellie was such a piece of work. But thoughts of Mellie quickly left her mind and her body tingled at the memory of Fitz's rough, warm hand stroking her clit through her sex stained panty. Olivia was still in a dreamlike state when she walked down the hall and bumped into Billy Chambers who was exiting the bathroom. "Oh, hey, Olivia," Billy said nervously. "Excuse me! Didn't see ya!" and then he scurried away.

Olivia thought about heading back to the party outside but she wanted to savor the moment alone, replaying her recent encounter with Fitz. _How did he manage to be so sexy?_ she thought. She was used to being around powerful men. She grew up among powerful people. And yet, Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III was the only man she had ever met who literally made her weak in the knees. A smile crossed her lips as she sit in the window seat of the living room facing the street.

Olivia was still daydreaming when the sound of a car horn honking caught her attention. She pulled back the linen curtain and looked out the window. It was one of those black Lincoln Town cars that limo companies used to shuttle rich and famous people around in. But this car had diplomatic license plates. The car windows were tinted, so she couldn't see inside.

She was about to let the curtain fall back into place when she saw Billy Chambers come out of the house and go up to the car. A tinted window slid down and the passenger handed Billy a small brown envelope. The entire exchange lasted less than five seconds, but it was enough time to have made a deep impression on Olivia. She stumbled back and away from the window visibly shaken. _No, no, no, it couldn't be!_ her mind raced, unwilling to process the visual her eyes had just fed her brain. _No, it's impossible. No, it can't be! _her mind inwardly screamed. But she knew her eyes weren't playing tricks on her. _The passenger in the car was Farheed Davi!_

* * *

**A/N:** The evil Farheed Davi is back. What does he have in store for Olivia? And what will she have in store for him? Answers to come. (Totally confused by who this character is? Want to find out why Olivia is so terrified of him? Get the answers by reading the story called _"An Ounce of Truth for Every Treason"_ written under my username/profile on this site.)

Thanks for reading!


	2. New Kid on the Block

**_A/N: Thanks very much for the warm reception for the first chapter. Felt like I owed you guys some sexy time with Liv and Fitz. But that damn Mellie had to swoop down, like a vulture, and ruin everything! LOL. Now Liv is too distracted to "continue the conversation" with Fitz. Oh well... :)_**

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**Chapter 2: New Kid on the Block**

"Huck, where are you? Can you meet me at the office in a half hour?"

_"Olivia, what is it? What happened?"_

"I can't talk about it over the phone. Just meet me at the office as soon as possible."

Olivia clicked the phone off and slipped it into her handbag. She went to the back porch, caught Cyrus's eye and motioned him over. "Cy, I'm terribly sorry. An emergency has come up. Work, you know. Gotta run, but thanks so much for inviting me, little Ethan is so adorable," she blurted out the words in one stream of thought. And then she was gone. She spoke so fast that Cyrus didn't have time to react or respond. He knew that in Olivia's line of work an emergency could happen morning, noon or night, so that wasn't what bothered him. What bothered him was how tense, no how frightened, Olivia seemed. Earlier, she had seemed OK, but now she seemed downright scared.

Fitz, who was standing several feet away speaking to a senator, caught a glimpse out of the side of his eye of Olivia and Cyrus speaking. He then saw Olivia turn and go back inside the house. When Fitz looked across at Cyrus, his chief of staff just shrugged and gave Fitz a look that indicated Cyrus didn't know what was up.

Fitz silently cursed. He knew that Olivia was gone and he hoped that she hadn't run away because of their steamy encounter in the kitchen. She had most definitely been into it, but maybe once she had been left alone she had had second thoughts. _Dammit!_ He wanted to go after her but he knew he couldn't do that without dragging along his Secret Service detail and causing a scene with a potentially screaming Mellie. He'd have to find another way to talk to her and find out what had happened to cause her to leave the party early.

* * *

**_An hour later_**

Olivia and Huck were in the office and she had filled Huck in on what she had seen outside Cyrus' house.

"That Billy Chambers, I always thought there was something sketchy about him," Huck said.

"Huck, we don't know what Billy's involvement is yet," said Olivia, always willing to give people the benefit of the doubt. "Let's not rush to judgment. We don't have all the facts."

"If I find out that Billy was involved in your kidnapping and Stephen's death, I'm going to peel him like a grape," Huck said, a dark look crossing his features.

"HUCK! Please, I need you to focus. You're not going to peel, filet, sauté or gut anyone! Do you hear me?" Olivia said. Yes, Huck was her pitbull but she had no intention of letting him off his leash. At least not yet. Not before she knew exactly who or what she was up against. For now, she needed Huck to submerge any thoughts of revenge to find out who was truly behind her kidnapping and Stephen's death.

Huck nodded his head and then sat down in front of his computer. He told Olivia about how while she was in captivity, he had tried to track down Farheed Davi but everything had led to a dead end. It was clear that Farheed Davi was an alias, perhaps an identity that he had created specifically to entrap Olivia.

"What about that $250,000 he wired into my bank account the day before the kidnapping? Couldn't you trace where that money came from?" Olivia asked.

"Only part of the way. It had been routed through multiple accounts and the original account was a Swiss bank account," Huck replied. "And you know how tight the Swiss banks' privacy laws are. By the way, what ever happened to that $250,000?"

"I didn't touch it. It was blood money, so I had no plans to ever touch it. About a week ago it mysteriously disappeared from my account. It's obvious that Davi or his people moved it out."

Huck didn't respond. He had this far away look in his eye, as though he were remembering. Olivia hoped he wasn't thinking back to the ambush in Pakistan where she and Stephen were taken. Olivia never wanted to replay those memories, never again.

"Huck?" Olivia asked gently. "You still with me?"

He swiveled around in his chair to face her. "Yeah, I was just thinking. I may need some help on this case."

"Help?" Olivia asked, nervously. "What kind of help?"

"Computer help. Tech help," Huck said.

"You mean like a hacker?"

"Yeah, something like that. Whoever is behind this is a real pro or has access to real pros. But there's somebody I know who can help us connect the dots," Huck replied.

"Who? Is it somebody I know?"

"No, you've never met Ariel Eisentadt. One of the best hackers alive.

"Ariel? A female computer hacker?

"No, Ariel, is a dude. He's Israeli and just so happens to have his own IT security firm right here in D.C."

"OK, Huck, set up a meeting so I can meet him. In the meantime, I'm going to retrace my steps and see what I can dig up on my own.

"Olivia, be careful. Whoever this Farheed Davi is, he's obviously well protected. Don't go kicking up a hornet's nest," Huck said.

"Don't worry, I won't," Olivia said, grabbing her purse and heading to the elevator.

* * *

_**Later that evening, a little after 11 p.m.**_

Olivia's phone rang and she guessed who was calling before she even picked it up. _"Private"_ the screen said. She braced herself and then answered. "Hello?"

_"Hey you, where'd you run off to this afternoon?"_ said Fitz in a lighthearted manner. _"I left you alone for 10 minutes and then you ran off. What happened?"_

"Oh, I'm sorry. Huck called with an emergency. We got a new case and I had to run to the office. You know, work. No rest for the weary," Olivia said with a weak laugh.

There was silence on the other end. Fitz didn't doubt what Olivia was saying was true but something about the way she said it seemed off to him, like she wasn't giving him the whole story.

"Olivia, are your sure that's all it was? I hope you didn't run off on account of what happened in the kitchen?" Fitz said, concern tinging his voice. "Because, you know, I wouldn't want to do anything to make you feel uncomfortable or insecure."

"Actually what you did to me in the kitchen was completely reckless, highly inappropriate, totally irresponsible and, _(Olivia paused for dramatic effect)_...I loved every second of it!" she said. They both broke out laughing.

"I'm actually glad it was Mellie who interrupted us and not Cyrus or James. How embarrassing would that have been?" Olivia asked.

"Yeah, you're right. James, I think would have forgiven us, but Cyrus, no, you're right. Cyrus would've been monumentally pissed, especially since they had just remodeled that kitchen. I don't think Cyrus would've appreciated us "christening" his new granite counter top."

They laughed some more and chit chatted for a few more minutes and then Olivia ended the conversation saying she needed to go to bed. After she hung up, Olivia was quite pleased with herself for having successfully steered the conversation away from the real reason why she had left the party early. She knew that if she even breathed a word of what she suspected, Fitz would bring the out the heavy artillery and go after Billy Chambers. But it was too soon for that. No, she'd do her own investigation and confirm her suspicions before involving Fitz.

* * *

The following day Olivia went to the Capital Grille because the first and only time she had meet with Farheed Davi in person was at that restaurant. Perhaps he was a regular there. Against her better judgment, Olivia decided she'd ask the hostess for info. It was a little before noon and the restaurant was empty. The lunch crowd hadn't arrived yet and the waiters and waitresses were still setting tables and memorizing the specials of the day's menu. Sitting off to the side on a bench near the hostess station, was a man. Olivia didn't pay any attention to him. In fact, she didn't even notice him but he noticed her as soon as she walked in.

Olivia went up to the hostess station. The hostess was a strikingly beautiful Indian female. "Good afternoon! We're still setting up for lunch but can I get you a table?" the woman asked in that calm, professional way that hostesses always do in fancy restaurants.

"Hi, actually, I'm not here for lunch. I'm hoping you can help me out," Olivia said, giving the hostess her sweetest smile.

"Help?" the hostess looked confused. "Well, I'll do my best. What can I help you with?"

"A few months ago, I had lunch here in one of your private dining rooms with someone. It was strictly a business luncheon. You're not going to believe this, but I lost the person's business card and I really need to get in touch with him."

"OK, do you remember what day it was? I can look up the reservation," the hostess said, beginning to tap away at the computer keyboard at her station.

"Yes, it was Nov. 7 and the name was Farheed Davi," Olivia said.

The hostess's fingers stiffened at the keyboard and she looked up at Olivia, her earlier calm expression had now completely drained away and was replaced with an anxious expression. "I'm sorry. I can't help you," she said, sternly.

"What? What do you mean? I have the right date. It was back in November and it was a lunch with Far…." but before Olivia could finish her statement, she felt someone grab her elbow and exclaim:

_"Oh my god! Is that you? I thought that was you? How long has it been, like what 10 years?! You look good!"_

Olivia looked up at this strange man who was talking to her. It was the man who had been seated near the hostess station when she walked into the restaurant. The one she had paid zero attention to when she walked in.

"Excuse me! Do I know you?!" Olivia asked angrily. She didn't know who this man was and she certainly didn't like how forward he was by grabbing her elbow like that.

"Aw, come on, is that anyway to treat an old friend? How's Mike? Are you two still together? God, it's so great to see you," and then he leaned down and hugged Olivia. She started to wiggle until he whispered in her ear, _"Don't make a scene. Just leave right now."_ And with that, Olivia relaxed, but only long enough to separate herself from his hug.

"I'm sorry, you've got me confused with somebody else," Olivia huffed and she then she left the restaurant.

The mystery man followed her outside, quickly walked up to her side and then pulled her into the alley.

"Look, I don't know who the hell you are but I'm going to call the police if you don't leave me alone!" Olivia hissed.

The mystery man chuckled. "The police? You mean D.C.'s finest? Yeah, they'll protect you," he said sarcastically.

"I mean it! You've got five seconds to tell me who the hell you are and what that little stunt inside the restaurant was about," Olivia said, her eyes brimming with anger.

"Who I am is not important. But I'm going to give you a piece of advice. Don't go around asking about Farheed Davi. It could get you hurt or worse, killed."

"So you know him? Where is he?" Olivia asked frantically.

The mystery man shook his head, turned and walked away. "Whatever gripe you've got with Farheed Davi, let a pro handle it. You need to stay out of it."

"What? What do you mean? Hey, come back here!" Olivia shouted at his back. But the man turned the corner and was gone.

* * *

_**A day later**_

The following day Huck asked Olivia to keep her afternoon schedule open because his hacker friend was going to stop by. The elevator chimed indicating that someone was getting off on their floor and then Olivia heard Huck and another man speaking. Olivia came out of her office and she couldn't see the man's face because his back was to her. When Huck saw Olivia standing there he said, "Ari, there she is! I'd like you to meet Olivia Pope, my boss and best friend."

Ariel Eisenstadt turned around. It was the guy who had pretended to know her the day before at the Capital Grille when she started asking questions about Farheed Davi.

_**"You!"**_ Olivia exclaimed. "You're the guy from the restaurant! Huck! THIS is your hacker friend?! Do you know that he's also a stalker?!"

Ariel laughed. "I am not a stalker. I just happened to be there when you arrived. I was there on a job. Trust me, I was not stalking you. You're not my type," he said with a smirk.

Olivia's mouth dropped open. She had known this guy less than a minute and he was already insulting her. _"Excuse me?!_ _What the…?_ _Huck! Who the hell is this guy?!"_

Huck had a puzzled look on his face. "I'm confused. Did you two already meet?"

"YES!" Olivia and Ariel responded in unison. They both started to speak at the same time.

"One at a time. I can't understand what either one of you are saying," Huck said.

"I'll go first," Olivia said, shooting Ariel a dirty look. "I went to the Capital Grille yesterday to see what I could find out about Farheed Davi and this jerk…"

"Olivia, please, tell me you didn't do that," Huck said groaning.

"Yes, she did," Ariel interrupted. "So good thing I was there to be her knight in shining armor and stop her from poking the bear."

"Poking the bear?" Olivia asked, confused.

"Yeah, poking the bear. The Capital Grille is a popular meeting spot for diplomats, spies and informants from the Middle East and Southeast Asia. You literally walked right into the lion's den and asked about one of the most dangerous and well-connected men around. That's the sort of rookie mistake that will get you a bullet right between the eyes, shorty," Ariel said, getting into Olivia's personal space and lightly tapping her forehead with his index finger, as if Olivia needed help knowing exactly where he meant.

Olivia slapped his hand away. "I'm not your '_shorty'_ and don't you dare touch me!" she snapped.

"You're a feisty one, aren't you?" Ariel said chuckling, looking at her with an amused expression. "Do you want my help or not?"

Olivia looked at Huck whose expression told her that she really didn't have any say in the matter. He was going to use Ariel Eisenstadt whether she approved or not.

Exasperated, Olivia went to the break room to make herself a cup of tea. She needed to calm down. After heating the water in the microwave, she plunked down a tea bag inside the steamy mug. She slowly walked past Huck's office on the way back to her own and peered inside. Huck was seated at the computer while Ariel was leaning against the desk talking to him. The two men were obviously deep in conversation. Olivia took the opportunity to check out this new recruit.

Ariel Eisenstadt was about 5'10" with a lean swimmer's build. He appeared to be in his mid-to-late 30s. His salt and pepper hair was cut short and framed a handsome face whose lower half was covered in a perfect layer of neatly trimmed stubble. He was wearing a cocoa-colored buttery soft leather jacket over a simple grey V-neck tee, dark jeans and broken-in brown suede boots. There was something edgy yet very refined about his appearance. Olivia would never admit it openly, but she found Ariel Eisenstadt physically attractive. Very attractive.

As she was perusing him through the glass, Ariel caught her staring at him and gave her a look that was a mixture of surprise and interest. He flashed her a boyish grin and a wink. Olivia sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes. _"I'll be damned if I give this man the satisfaction of knowing that I think he's hot,"_ she thought her to herself and walked back to her office.

Once she was back in her office, Olivia shut the door and lied down on the couch. She needed to gather her thoughts. She hated working with people she didn't personally know and trust. But Huck had insisted that they use outside resources. If Huck trusted this Ariel Eisenstadt, she would have to. Besides, there was something about him, she couldn't quite put her finger on it, but there was definitely something about him that, _did she dare think it_…something that intrigued her? _God, what was she thinking?!_ _The man was a smug bastard!_

* * *

_**A/N**: Hmm, so what do you guys think of the newest addition to Pope & Associates? What's your initial reaction to Ariel Eisenstadt? Good, bad or indifferent? Do you think Fitz may finally have some real actual competition on his hands for Liv's affections? Share your opinion in a review. Thanks! _


	3. Mellie, Eat Your Heart Out

**A/N:** Reader reaction to Ariel, the new character, was definitely mixed. Some of you like the idea of a little honest competition for Fitz, while others of you absolutely hate it. In fact some of you become like mama grizzly bears looking to protect their favorite Fitz cub at the first sign of a new romantic rival. LOL.

Don't worry, I get it. I can be a mama grizzly too. :) I love Fitz to pieces, just like many of you, so I'm not going to screw him over. Olitz is end game, no matter what.

But Fitz is still trapped in a jail of a marriage to Mellie. While he works on getting parole, doesn't Olivia deserve a new playmate? (lol) Don't worry, Ariel comes with his own particular set of baggage that Olivia isn't aware of yet. He's not perfect.

(Btw, one or two people commented on the name. In Hebrew, "Ariel" is a boy's name. I guess it's thanks to Disney's _Little Mermaid_ movie that the name "Ariel" is considered a female name in English. But if you've ever watched HBO's Entourage, you know that the lead character is named Ari Gold, and Ari is the short version of Ariel.)

OK, this is a low octane chapter with minimal action. It's just kind of setting the stage for the future fireworks to come. Enjoy and, as always, _muchas gracias_ for the reviews! :)

Neo

* * *

**Chapter 3: Mellie, Eat Your Heart Out**

"_Good morning."_

"Morning," said Fitz, looking up from his plate of eggs Benedict, home fries, sausage and toast. He was somewhat surprised to see Mellie. It was about 6:30 a.m. in the morning, and at that hour she would normally still be asleep or just getting up.

Actually, Fitz was no longer in sync with Mellie's morning routine and he no longer cared. After Olivia's kidnapping, he had started sleeping on the couch in the living room of the Executive Residence. It was obviously far from ideal, but since the living room was connected to the master bedroom as part of one huge private suite, none of the White House staff would know that the POTUS and First Lady were no longer sleeping together in the same bed.

Carl, the White House butler, put a plate of fresh fruit with a side of plain yogourt in front of the First Lady and then asked her if she'd like to have coffee or juice. "Just coffee, black," Mellie said, unfolding the cloth napkin and putting it in her lap.

The POTUS and FLOTUS ate in silence. Actually, they were both in their own little worlds. Fitz was reading the New York Times on his iPad, while Mellie was flipping through the Washington Post's Style section. Karen and Jerry, the Grant children, would be down later for breakfast.

It had been three weeks since Fitz had spoken with attorney Bob Pearson about filing for divorce, and last night, via a Fedex special delivery, he had finally received the proposed divorce settlement that Bob had drafted. It was time, finally, to break the news to Mellie and ask for a divorce.

It wasn't until Fitz was finished eating his breakfast that he looked across the table and said to Mellie, "I need you to carve some time out of your busy schedule to talk about something important."

"About what?" Mellie asked, not taking her eyes off the newspaper article she was reading.

"About us. About what comes next for us," Fitz said.

"You mean about what Bob Pearson was here for, right?" Mellie asked, putting the newspaper down and eyeing Fitz coldly. "That's what this is really about, isn't it?"

Fitz was surprised, but then again, not really, that Mellie knew about Bob's visit. Actually, it shouldn't have been a surprise. Cynthia Mitchell, Mellie's Chief of Staff, was very astute and was constantly on the lookout for anything that might tick off her boss, so it made perfect sense that Mellie's office had been keeping tabs on the visitors' log to the Oval Office.

"I'm not stupid, Fitz. Bob Pearson, the Grant family attorney, flies all the way from California to Washington for an impromptu meeting with you and he doesn't have the courtesy to even say hello to me while he's here?" Mellie said. "That behavior was totally out of character for Bob. I knew then that something was up, that you must have hired him to do something for you, and because of attorney-client privilege, he didn't want to have any contact with me until you both were good and ready."

Fitz let out a heavy sigh. "Mellie, I…"

"Fitz, put a sock in it! I don't want to hear your little speech," Mellie said angrily. "You tried to blindside me, but it's not going to work. You hear me? It's NOT GOING TO WORK!"

Mellie stood up and threw her napkin on the table and was about to storm out of the dining room when Fitz rose to his feet and stopped her.

"Yes, Bob Pearson was here. But you don't even know yet what he and I discussed.," Fitz said.

"You're wrong, Fitz. I do know. You want a divorce. That's it, isn't it? You're going to ask me for a divorce," Mellie said angrily. "It wouldn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out," she said bitterly.

"Yes, I want a divorce, but that shouldn't come as a shock to you," Fitz said. "Look, you and I need to talk about this. Soon. You don't even know what I'm willing to offer you. Aren't you the least bit curious?"

They both knew the marriage was dead, and to be honest, if he weren't POTUS, clearly he and Mellie probably would've split years ago. But Mellie was obsessed with worth – the worth of a high-profile marriage, the worth of the presidency, and, of course, her own self-worth. Fitz knew that even though Mellie would make a stink she would also be very curious to find out what exactly he would be willing to offer her to get out of the marriage. It was a classic negotiation tactic – have the other person make the first offer. So for all of Mellie's huffing and puffing, Fitz knew that her curiosity would win out and that she'd agree to this meeting.

Mellie glared at him. It was clear she had arrived at the same conclusion. She was very curious.

"OK, fine! Have Mrs. Hanley make an appointment with Allison," Mellie said, referring to their personal secretaries. And with that she turned on her heel and stormed out of the room.

* * *

**A/N**: _**Well, at least Mellie is willing to hear Fitz out about a divorce. That's progress, isn't it? :)**_


	4. TwoFactor

**Chapter 4: Two-Factor**

_Knock, knock_

Cyrus! What are you doing here?" Olivia looked up to see Cyrus standing in her office doorway.

"Well, I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop by and say hello," Cyrus said, good-naturedly.

Olivia raised an eyebrow and looked at her watch. It was 1 p.m. "Yeah, right, Cy. The Chief of Staff of the Leader of the Free World just so happened to be walking by my building in the middle of a week-day afternoon," she said, somewhat sarcastically. "Out with it, Cy. What brings you here?"

"You, actually," came the reply.

"ME? What about me?" Olivia asked, surprised.

"Well, you left Ethan's baby shower last weekend in quite a hurry and you seemed, I don't know, you seemed…scared," Cy said, genuinely concerned. "After everything you've gone through recently, I was worried that something bad had happened or that you saw or heard something that triggered a bad memory for you."

Olivia just looked at Cyrus. She wasn't sure how to react. A couple years ago she would've been touched by his concern. There was a time when she looked up to and admired the man and trusted his counsel. He was practically like a father to her. But now, well now, she wanted to keep her distance. Cyrus, with his "Fitz was meant to be great" speech, was the primary person who had convinced her to leave the White House behind, and Olivia had lived to regret that decision.

No, Olivia thought, as long as Fitz was President of the United States and Cyrus was his Chief of Staff, she couldn't fully trust him.

"Cyrus, I'm fine. Seriously. An emergency case came up and Huck called me into the office. Honest," Olivia said, giving Cyrus a tight smile.

Cyrus looked around the office, as though he were a burglar casing the joint. _What is he looking for?_ Olivia wondered.

"Well, you know Liv, if there's anything, anything at all I can help you with, don't hesitate to ask," Cyrus said. "I mean it."

"OK, Cyrus, I'll keep that in mind," Olivia said, shaking her head, contradicting the words that were coming out of her mouth.

Cyrus turned to leave and said, "by the way, I see you've expanded your staff. Who's the new guy?" he said pointing his head in the direction of Huck's office.

"Oh, Huck's working on a new project and he brought in an outside consultant to help," Olivia said evasively.

Cyrus slowly nodded his head as though he was comprehending something she hadn't said. "Well, that must be one hell of a project. As I recall, Huck is pretty handy around a computer."

Olivia didn't immediately respond. "Well, Cyrus, if there isn't anything else you needed to talk to me about, I really must get back to work. I've got a 2 o'clock meeting I need to prep for and…," Olivia said, her voice trailing off.

"Yes, of course, and I've got to get back to the White House…." Cyrus' voice suddenly cut off as a dry cough attacked his throat. "Gosh, I must've got a frog stuck in my throat," he said beating his chest, his voice suddenly hoarse. "Olivia, would you mind getting me a glass of water, please." (_cough, cough_)

Olivia went to the break room to get Cyrus a bottle of water. As soon as she left, Cyrus stopped coughing. Casting a quick glance around to make sure nobody was watching, he whipped out his iPhone and snapped a photo of Ariel Eisenstadt sitting at one of Huck's computer terminals. _"Gotcha!"_ Cyrus whispered under his breath. "I don't know who the hell you are but I'm going to find out."

* * *

After Cyrus left, Olivia went into Huck's office. Huck wasn't there, but Ariel was sitting at the computer staring at the screen. He was engrossed in what he was looking at and didn't hear Olivia enter.

"Where's Huck? I want a status report about what you two have found so far about Farheed Davi and his connection with Billy Chambers," Olivia said.

Ariel didn't respond. He continued to look at the screen and then let out a low whistle like the type you hear construction workers use when they see a pretty woman. Ariel then started laughing.

"What's so funny?" Olivia said, annoyed that he was ignoring her. She stomped over to his desk and looked at the 17-inch screen. A little shriek escaped her lips when she saw what he was looking at.

Three different windows were open on the screen. The first was Olivia's Gmail account. The second was the web site for La Perla, a luxury lingerie brand, and the third was a candid photo Olivia had taken of herself wearing a brand new push-up bra and panty set. Ariel clicked on the mouse and a different photo came up, this one a close-up of her cleavage.

**"OH. MY. GOD! _What the…?!_ _Where did you get this?!"_** Olivia's eyes were as wide as saucers. She couldn't believe her eyes.

Ariel clicked again and up popped another photo of Olivia, still in her undies. She was giving the camera a sexy pout, her bee stung lips showcased in a scarlet red lipstick. Her normally perfectly coiffed hair was a mane of wild loose curls that tumbled forward and covered one side of her face, as though she had just experienced a tremendously satisfying fuck.

Next click, there was Olivia sitting in an overstuffed armchair, wearing a push-up bra, panty and black silk stockings with a garter belt, her legs spread wide open with one leg thrown lazily over the side and her hand reaching down and inside her panty to touch her…

"STOP IT! TURN IT OFF!" Olivia yelled as she yanked the computer cord out of the wall. The screen went dark.

Ariel spun around in his seat and looked at Olivia with an amused expression.

"I must say, Ms. Pope, you have a mighty fine…"

Before he could finish his sentence, Olivia lifted her hand and went to slap him in the face. Anticipating her move, he grabbed her wrist before her palm made contact.

"Uh, no, no, no, I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said with a smile. His smile was disarming and for the first time Olivia noticed the beautiful long eyelashes that framed his intense hazel eyes. Olivia tried to wrench her wrist away but he wouldn't let go. Olivia glared at him. "Let go of my hand!"

"I will if you promise not to attack me," Ariel said, lightly rubbing his thumb along the inner part of her wrist. The sensation of his touch was unexpected and so erotic that Olivia began to question her own sanity. She felt a warm tingle invade her girly bits. Olivia wanted to despise this man but she couldn't.

She exhaled, releasing a sound that seemed like a cross between a moan and a sigh. Ariel let her wrist go. Olivia immediately took a big step back away from him.

"OK, Mr. Pervert, would you mind telling me how the hell you got into my Gmail account?" Olivia asked angrily.

"I was trying to prove a point," he said calmly.

"A point?"

"Yeah, a point. I wanted you to see how vulnerable you are to being hacked."

"But I change my password every month," Olivia protested.

"Doesn't matter. You're not taking enough precautions online and that's how Farheed Davi learned so much about you before he even met you," Ariel replied.

"You mean that he electronically rummaged thorugh all my emails," Olivia said shocked.

"Yes, he most definitely did. Do you use your Gmail password across different web sites?"

Olivia nodded her head.

"Well, you basically gave him the digital keys to your kingdom," Ariel replied. "Once Farheed had your Gmail password, it unlocked any other online account you had that was linked or that used the same password – Facebook, Amazon, iTunes, your bank account, your stock brokerage account, your lingerie account…"

Olivia looked up at him ready to raise a hand to his face again. Ariel raised his hands in a defensive gesture. "Hey, don't shoot the messenger!" he said. "Sure there were less embarrassing ways to show you how easily you could get hacked but none would've been as effective or as…arousing." He fought to keep the smirk on his face from spreading.

Olivia shook her head. She was mortified. How could she have been so careless? She shuddered to think of Farheed Davi going through her accounts, reading her emails and seeing all these intimate and mundane details of her life. _Shit!_ It made her sick to even think about it!

Ariel sensed Olivia was silently chastising herself and he stood up and took a step toward her. "Hey, listen, the majority of people out there are vulnerable to being hacked. You didn't do anything wrong," he said, trying to cheer her up.

Olivia didn't respond.

"I'm here to help you and I am going to help you," he continued. "There is a way to tighten your security online. What you need to do with your Gmail account is set up two-factor authentication.

Olivia looked up. "Two factor what?"

"Two-factor authentication," Ari repeated. "Two-factor authentication means something you know, like a password, and something you have, which means your cell phone."

"I'm not following you," Olivia said, confused.

"You set up your Gmail account so that you have to enter both a password and a PIN number in order to access the account. The PIN number is generated by Google and sent to your cell phone. A hacker might be able to figure out or crack your password on their own, but unless they also physically have your cell phone, they won't be able to get access to the special PIN that Gmail automatically generates and sends to your phone. It's really very simple and very secure once you set it up."

Olivia just looked at Ariel. She felt emotionally drained. She just wanted to get this whole thing behind her. "Let's do it," she said. "Let's set this thing up."

"OK, but let's do it later. I'm starving and I can't think clearly on an empty stomach. You hungry?" Ariel said reaching behind the chair to grab his jacket.

Olivia was about to say no when she immediately reconsidered and decided she would say yes. Why not? It was just lunch, after all. "Sure, let's go!"

"By the way, would you mind emailing me that photo of you where you're…"

_"Don't you even dare say it!_" Olivia interrupted him, punching him in the arm and stifling a laugh.

* * *

_**A/N:** So what do you think of this quirky friendship developing between Liv and Ari? If this were a western, would Ari be the guy wearing the white hat or the black hat? And what about Cyrus with his little phone trick? Was he taking a pic of Ariel to ogle over the Israeli Adonis later on (lol) or is Cyrus going to go into pit bull mode and do a background check on Ari?  
_

_Speaking of photos, I wonder who Livvie originally intended to show those photos to? A certain dashing POTUS, perhaps?_

**_Y__our reviews are my tips, so please "tip" generously. :) Thanks!_**

_P.S. If you have a Gmail account, seriously consider adding two-factor authentication to it. Hacking Gmail accounts is a serious and growing problem. Protect yourself and your privacy. OK, this public service announcement is over. Now back to our regularly scheduled fan fic programming…._


	5. Put up or Shut up

******A/N: **Thank you for the reviews and all the feedback. It's making me **rethink the plot** and I'm wondering if maybe I should reboot the story. I'm **thinking of scrapping the initial story idea** I had in mind that involved Ariel posing a bigger problem for Liv and Fitz than Farheed Davi ever did. So if I do decide to junk that story line, you're going to find a lot less mystery/intrigue about catching Farheed Davi and Billy Chambers **and more focus on Fitz, Olivia, Mellie and Cyrus.** I think stories that focus on the core original TV characters are what most of you want to read, right?

**In a review or a PM, please tell me what you think I should do - S_tick to my original story line? or Scrap and reboot?_ **

** THANKS!**

**_- Neo_  
**

* * *

**Chapter 5: 'Put up or Shut up' or 'Pay to Play'**

_Grant vs. Grant - Proposal for a divorce settlement _

_$1 million in cash and stock, the ranch in Santa Barbara, $25,000 monthly alimony for 8 years, joint custody of the kids._

Mellie put the piece of paper down on the table and laughed.

"Is this the best you've got?"

"Mellie, I think that's more than fair. You're a Harvard-educated lawyer. If you take the time to review it, you'll see that what I'm offering you is quite generous," Fitz said.

Mellie yawned, as if she were already bored. "Fitz, let's call a spade a spade, shall we? The only reason why you want this divorce is because of what happened to Olivia and now you want to be with her. If she hadn't been kidnapped, you would've sucked it up and not said a peep about a divorce while you were in office. Am I right?"

Fitz didn't respond.

"OK, I'll take your lack of a response as a yes," Mellie continued. "So, I'm going to make this simple for you. I'm a reasonable woman. I propose that we stay married and that I allow you to screw around and sleep with whoever you like. Let's face it. What you really want is freedom to have sex with Olivia, so there, you can have it. Go for it! I don't care. Go fuck like bunnies! You've got my blessing."

Fitz just stared at her. There was a long pause.

"I want a divorce. Period," Fitz finally said very calmly. "We can either hash this out like two civilized adults, or we can get some high powered, high profile lawyers involved to resolve this. Either way, I'm getting out of this marriage."

Mellie gave Fitz a thin smile. "I thought that might be your answer, so I did actually come prepared." She took out a manila folder and slid it across the table. Fitz opened it. Inside was a single sheet of paper. On it was printed:

_**20–10–S**_

"What the hell is this? Some kind of code?" Fitz asked, irritated. "You mind explaining it?"

Mellie sat up a little straighter in her chair before speaking.

"I will happily sign the divorce papers today if you agree to the following: Twenty million dollars in cash, you wait 10 years after the divorce is finalized before remarrying and you help me get elected to the U.S. Senate. California Sen. Barbara Boxer is getting up there in age. I think I would be a more than suitable replacement."

Fitz looked up from the sheet of paper to glare at Mellie.

"I thought you said you were going to be reasonable? None of this is within the realm of reality! **_$20 million? Have you lost your fucking mind?_** I don't have that kind of money! _**A 10-year cooling off period AND a Senate seat! You must be insane!"**_

"Pay to play, Fitz, pay to play. You want out of this marriage so bad, you'll find the money AND you'll find a way to get me elected to the Senate," Mellie said with a smirk. "Oh, and regarding that decade-long waiting period, I'm not telling you that you can't screw around. I'm just saying you can't get remarried before the time period is up."

"Or what, Mellie? What would you do if I did get remarried during that time period?" Fitz demanded to know.

"I'd publish this," Mellie said, reaching into her oversized Cole Haan leather tote and pulling out a Fedex package that hadn't been sealed yet. The shipping carton was open and inside was a 500-page manuscript. The box was addressed to an editor at Simon & Schuster in New York.

"This, my dear husband, are my memoirs," Mellie said triumphantly, holding up the thick, unbound document. The manuscript landed with a thud when she put it on the table. "Let's just say it's not exactly a flattering portrait of you or of your first term in office."

"I know I haven't exactly been a boy scout, but you don't have any real dirt on me," Fitz said with false bravado.

"I don't? You'd be surprised, Fitz. Oh, so surprised," Mellie said, a devious glint flashing in her eyes. _"Hmmm,_ where shall I begin? Oh, I know...how about Chapter 5 where I talk about how you and your chief campaign strategist and mistress, Olivia Pope, coerced me into telling a lie on the campaign trail about having a miscarriage just to capture the women's vote. Or how about in Chapter 9 where I talk about how Cyrus Beene is your own personal goon squad who does your dirty work, like paying off mistresses and making people permanently disappear. Or, better yet, what about this juicy tidbit from Chapter 15 where I talk about how you are a sexual deviant who enjoys wearing women's clothing. In this chapter I recall the tremendous disgust and immense humiliation I felt when I walked into our bedroom one Sunday morning before we were scheduled to go to church and found you wearing a pair of women's high heels and attempting to try on one of my dresses."

**_"WHAT?!"_** Fitz thundered. _**"Those are lies! Goddamn filthy lies!"**_

"I know," Mellie said, cackling. "But the American people won't know that. That's the beauty of a memoir. It will be my word against yours. _She said vs. He said_. And who do you think the American public is going to believe after I do the Oprah or Diane Sawyer interview? The sweet, demure, long-suffering former First Lady who was abandoned by her cheating, no good husband? Or the quitter of a president who selfishly destroyed his family and disappointed his nation just to chase a piece of ass?"

Fitz looked at Mellie dumbfounded. He never expected Mellie to go along with this divorce without some kind of a fight, but he was still shocked and disgusted by just how low she was prepared to go to smear and defame him.

"So, Fitz, what's it going to be? As I see it, you've got only two options: You and I stay together and you get to avoid all these messy complications, or you agree to my demands and I'll sign the divorce papers immediately."

Fitz didn't say anything. He sat there glaring at Mellie. An uncomfortable silence filled the room and the only sound to be heard was the ticking of the grandfather clock in the background. Finally, Mellie spoke.

"So, what's it going to be, Fitz? What's your answer?" she said. "Put up and shut up? Or pay to play?"

Without saying a word, Fitz stood up and picked up Mellie's proposed divorce settlement. He held the sheet of paper directly in front of her face and then ripped it in half. "You want an answer? _That's my answer!"_

He then left the room.


	6. Author's Note: Story Reboot

**Author's Note: Story Reboot**

I asked you guys for advice on what I should do with this story and the response was almost unanimous - **Get back to basics (Fitz, Liv, Mellie & Cyrus) and scrap the other storyline (Ariel, Farheed, etc.).**

So I'm basically going to tear this story up, at least what I had originally planned on writing and now switch tracks. Ariel isn't completely out of the picture, but his presence is going to be significantly reduced from what I had originally intended. Billy Chambers will still be lurking around because I may need a preexisting villain in place to go to later on in the story. Not sure, so I won't get rid of him just yet. Yeah, I know, it's not right that Billy Chambers could wind up getting away with everything he's done, but isn't that kind of like real life?

Now, regarding Farheed Davi, he's gone. Done. Over. I'll tell you what his deal was right now and we can pretend that Ariel and Huck uncovered the entire plot, reported it to Liv who reported it to Fitz and he retaliated by having Davi shipped off to Guantanamo to rot.

Here's what the plot was going to be: Farheed Davi was an alias for a high ranking member of the Saudi royal family. The plot that Ariel, Huck and Liv were going to uncover was that Saudia Arabia, one of America's supposed allies, had been behind Olivia's kidnapping in an attempt to overthrow the U.S. government. They wanted to provoke Fitz into resigning or doing something rash like blowing up Pakistan that would get him to quit but their plan backfired. The Saudis want to undermine Israel and wanted Fitz out of office so that Sally Langston would become president because when she had run for president she had indicated that she would not support Israel.

OK, it was a little bit complicated and convoluted, but now you can begin to see why I had introduced Ariel, an Israeli, into the story mix. He was going to have a much bigger role in this story and turn out to be a bigger threat to Fitz than Davi ever was, but now that I'm tying up all these Farheed Davi loose ends "off camera," so to speak, there's not going to be any development of Ariel's character in that way. He may still be around but just nowhere near as present as he has been so far.

Just some other things I'd like to mention. A few of you have said that Olivia and the sex photos didn't seem in character and that she was stupid to post them on the Internet. Several people have mentioned this, so what I originally wrote definitely wasn't clear. Olivia didn't post her pictures on the Internet. Those pictures were on her iPhone, which Ari was able to hack into by accessing her Apple account via her gmail password. I was trying to show how a skilled hacker, just by figuring out one password, could hack into multiple places and really mess with somebody's life in the process.

OK, now on to the pix themselves. Several of you say that Olivia Pope would never take such photos. I disagree. I think that the Olivia Pope we've seen so far in the TV show is an incomplete version of her.

She spent the first five episodes so pissed off and angry, making it seem like she was repressed. But I don't think she's really like that. I think she's got a very soft, sexy feminine side that she's shared with Fitz while they were having the affair. I don't think Fitz would've fallen so completely head over heels over Olivia if she were sexually uptight or repressed and insecure about her body. Just my humble opinion.

So do I think Olivia Pope would knowingly post raunchy photos of herself on the Internet? No. But do I think she'd take some pics of herself for Fitz's eyes only? _Yes, indeedy! _

So, to sum up, the new version of the story so far is now this:

Farheed Davi is gone and has been carted off to a U.S. military jail in Cuba to rot for life.

Billy Chambers is still around but pretty much a non-entity at this point.

Fitz has asked Mellie for a divorce and she has reacted very strongly and negatively to the idea.

Cyrus actually hasn't done anything bad in this story yet. LOL.

And Olivia is still Olivia. She has no idea what Fitz is planning but will find out soon.

OK, that's everything in a nutshell. Thanks again for all of your responses. I don't want to write a story that nobody wants to read, so, honestly, thank you for all the feedback and suggestions.

See you in the next update!

Neo


	7. Going Nuclear

_**A/N**: OK, everyone, you asked for it, you got it! This story from here on out will focus on Scandal's core characters. In case you missed it, please read the previous update ("Story Reboot") for a complete explanation. This chapter takes place after Fitz's confrontation with Mellie and focuses on Bob Pearson, Fitz's divorce attorney. (Pearson and his history with Fitz were originally introduced in Chap 29 of my other story, "An Ounce of Truth for Every Treason." If there was a way to post links in this, I would, but Fan Fiction doesn't allow it. OK, happy reading, everyone!)_

* * *

**Chapter 6: Going Nuclear _  
_**

Bob Pearson hung up the phone and shook his head. The President's first meeting with the First Lady to discuss the divorce had been a complete disaster. Pearson wasn't surprised. Before he had fedexed Pres. Grant the proposed divorce settlement, Pearson had advised the president that he, as his attorney, should be present when Fitz talked to Mellie about the details. But the president had insisted on having this veil of privacy maintained and had told Pearson to stay put in Santa Barbara, Calif. Well, so much for that.

Now Melody Grant was on the war path and out for blood, and if Pearson didn't find something to rein her in soon, Pres. Grant was going to have a huge mess on his hands.

_"Dammit!"_ Pearson swore under his breath. This woman that Pres. Grant was going to such lengths to be with, _who the hell was she?_ Pearson wondered. He scoured his memory for any rumors of affairs or women in the President's social circle back from his time as governor of California, but Pearson, of course, came up completely empty. Pearson had never met Olivia Pope. He had never witnessed firsthand the interaction between Olivia and Fitz, not that that would've revealed anything since not even Cyrus Beene had known what was going on between the president and the fixer until she left the White House.

Pearson looked at the notes he had jotted down on his yellow legal pad during his phone conversation with the POTUS. Fitz had given him instructions to pursue the nuclear option. In other words, scorched earth tactics, with no stone left unturned to uncover dirt on Melody Grant, even if Pearson had to go all the way back to when Mellie was a fetus in her mother's womb to find it.

* * *

_A/N: Sorry, this update was extremely short. I promise** the next one will be much longer and juicier. If anyone wants a preview, please post a new comment/review, and I'll PM you a preview. **(Got that idea from BabycakesBriauna who is a writing machine!)** Thanks to all who have read and reviewed so far. You guys are awesome!**_


	8. So Close and Yet So Far

**Chapter 7: So Close and Yet so Far**

It had been several weeks since the whole Farheed Davi messiness had finally been cleaned up, thanks to Huck and some unnamed associate of his who had hacked into some computer files and solved the whole mystery. Davi was arrested in the middle of the night and shipped off to Guantanamo Bay prison in Cuba to rot along with other suspected terrorists. The ambassador from Saudi Arabia originally expressed his outrage, but then when presented with damning evidence of a conspiracy orchestrated by Davi on behalf of the Saudi royal family, the ambassador became very apologetic. But his apologies fell on deaf ears as Pres. Grant had the U.S. State Dept. temporarily revoke the diplomatic status of all Saudi diplomats in Washington, in effect, kicking them out of the U.S. for six months. He then ordered the State Dept. to implement strict new visa requirements for all Saudi nationals working and living in or wanting to visit the United States. Fitz's decision caused quite a stir in the Middle East, but he wanted to send a signal to the Saudis that he wasn't a leader to be trifled with.

Fitz was hoping that with all of this behind him and Olivia, that she would be finally ready to think about her future, their future together. He was still working on getting the divorce from Mellie and so he hadn't mentioned anything to her yet. He didn't want to until his attorney, Bob Pearson, had a divorce decree that was signed, sealed and delivered with Mellie's signature on it. In his last call with Pearson, he had given the attorney some tidbits of info to chase down in the pursuit of finding some dirt that would get Mellie to buckle under and sign the papers.

It was almost 6 p.m. when the president's secretary buzzed the phone intercom in the Oval Office. Fitz pressed the button, "Yes, Mrs. Hanley?"

_"Ryan Bishop, your 6 o'clock appointment is here. Do you want me to send him in?"_

Fitz looked at his watch, surprised at the hour. "Yes, of course. Thank you."

Fitz stood up and put on his jacket and absentmindedly ran a hand down his tie to smooth it out. The door opened.

"Mr. President," the guest said, striding purposefully toward the POTUS.

"Bishop," Fitz responded, giving the man a firm handshake. "Please, sit down."

The two men sat facing one another. "So, what do you have for me today?" Fitz asked.

"Sir, within the last week, the subject has varied her normal schedule. Nothing extraordinary but enough to have captured my men's attention," Bishop said, watching the president closely for a reaction.

There was no reaction on Fitz's part. So far, Bishop hadn't told him anything worth reacting to. "What, exactly, have your men seen?" Fitz asked, curious.

"Well, sir, it appears, that we've seen the subject on a date," Bishop said, lightly clearing his throat. Ryan Bishop was the head of BPS, Bishop Protection Services, one of the top private security firms in D.C. In other words, Bishop was a professional bodyguard. When the call came in from the White House Chief of Staff that the President of the United States wished to hire BPS for a very important assignment, Bishop was pleased. A former Navy Seal who had gone into the private security business after retiring from the military 10 years earlier, Bishop had worked extremely hard to build his business based on professional reputation alone. The strong word-of-mouth success he had in landing referrals from wealthy or famous clients was because he was highly discreet and professional. He was like a vault. Whatever info went inside never came out.

That said, the President had never told Bishop why this particular woman needed protection. From his own research, Bishop knew that Olivia Pope had been Pres. Grant's campaign strategist and that she used to formerly be the communications director for the White House. Although it had never been publicly announced, Bishop knew from his Navy Seal contacts, that Ms. Pope had been kidnapped by Islamic terrorists and that the president had signed the order for a a special midnight raid which resulted in the killing of notorious terrorist mastermind Omar Hazib Bahar and the rescue of Ms. Pope.

While the killing of Bahar had dominated the news for days, the kidnapping and subsequent rescue of Ms. Pope had been conveniently left out of news reports. Two entries Bishop had managed to find on a D.C. gossip blog alluding to the disappearance of Ms. Pope for a brief period of time earlier in the year had been mysteriously scrubbed from Google's search engine results. It would've taken a very well-connected someone in a very high place in order to have orchestrated a global media blackout about the kidnapping.

To Bishop, it was obvious what was going on. Ms. Pope was clearly someone _**very**_ important to the President. But of course Bishop couldn't say anything. He wouldn't say anything. He wasn't getting paid to ask questions but to protect.

Unbeknownst to Olivia, and to everyone else except Cyrus, Fitz had hired BPS to monitor Olivia 24 hours a day to make sure she was protected around the clock. If he had used Secret Service protection that would've eventually leaked out and raised a lot of questions. But by contracting a private security firm that was accustomed to working for high-profile publicity-shy clients, Fitz knew he'd have a better chance of keeping what he was doing to protect Olivia private. Also, he was paying BPS out of his own pocket so no one would be able to accuse him of wasting government funds or misusing resources like the Secret Service. The truth was that if Olivia were legally his wife she would be automatically entitled to her own Secret Service protection. Although they weren't legally married, he still felt like Olivia was his true wife. She wasn't his mistress. She was his woman so he would make sure she had the best protection money could buy.

Bishop reached into his case and took out a large envelope. He handed it to Fitz who opened it. Inside were photographs of Olivia and that computer hacker guy Cyrus had told him about. Cyrus said the guy was working for Olivia but she had never mentioned him to Fitz. Oh, yes, now he remembered, she did say that Huck had brought in an outside consultant to help him crack the whole Farheed Davi case. _God, what was his name again? _Fitz racked his brain trying to remember.

"Ariel Eisenstadt," said Bishop suddenly, as if he were reading Fitz's mind. "The man in the photo is an Israeli national and owner of an IT security firm here in D.C."

"I know who he is," Fitz snapped, annoyed that Bishop seemed to have anticipated his question before he even asked it.

Fitz quickly flipped through the photographs. There were about 15 of them. There were photos of Olivia and Ariel sitting in an outdoor café. They appeared to be having brunch. There was another photo of them touring one of the art galleries at the Smithsonian. They appeared to be deep in conversation discussing the sculpture in front of them. Olivia looked scrumptious, Fitz thought, her hair pulled back in a chic ponytail and her skinny jeans hugging her in all the right places. He had never known a woman who made intelligence look so sexy. A little smile came to his lips as he looked at the photo a second longer than the others, a smile that didn't go unnoticed by Bishop.

Fitz continued flipping through the snapshots. "When were these taken?" he asked not looking up.

"Yesterday, Sunday," came the reply.

Fitz suddenly stopped flipping. There was a photo of Ariel and Olivia at a stoplight, waiting to cross the street. Ariel was standing directly behind Olivia and he had his arms wrapped lightly around her waist. Olivia's head was thrown back in laughter as though Ariel had just said the most hysterical thing ever. _Hmm, have I ever made her laugh like that? _Fitz wondered.

Another photo captured them walking arm-in-arm along the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool. They looked like good friends. No, scratch that, they looked like a couple that was very comfortable with one another. Olivia looked happy and content.

In the next picture, Olivia was facing Ariel and he had a hand on her cheek and she was looking up at him. The Washington Monument was in the background. The photo looked like it could have been a tourism ad with a tagline _"Washington is for lovers,"_ - the image was so freaking perfect. For a millisecond Fitz's jaw clenched. Bishop noticed the slight flicker in Fitz's jawline.

The last photo was a shot of Ariel and Olivia entering her apartment building together.

Fitz put the photos back inside the large envelope and casually tossed it on to the coffee table.

"Is that all you've got?" he asked drily.

"Yes, sir," Bishop replied.

"Well, Bishop, unless you tell me that this man, this Ariel Eisenstadt, is a threat to Ms. Pope, I don't think there's anything else we need to discuss today," the POTUS said, ending the meeting by standing up.

Individually, the photographs were meaningless, but viewed as a whole they painted a clear portrait of a burgeoning relationship. It may not be a full-blown romance yet, but it did look very promising.

"Thank you for coming," Fitz said shaking Bishop's hand and escorting him to the door. As soon as he was gone, Fitz picked up the envelope Bishop had left on the coffee table and threw it against the wall. _"Goddammit, Olivia!"_

It was clear that time wasn't on Fitz's side. Olivia was slipping away from him, he could feel it. The thought that he might lose her, again, after everything he was doing to be with her was driving him crazy. He was going to have to reveal his plan to her before he was ready. But the last time he told her what he wanted to do before he had everything arranged, she had gone right to Mellie and conspired to keep him trapped in the White House.

This time he wanted to make sure he had everything in order and locked down tight before letting her know about the divorce. But now he realized that he may not have that luxury. He may have to show his hand before he was ready to play it.

Fitz picked up the phone and pressed a button.

"Mrs. Hanley would you get Bob Pearson on a secure line, please?"

* * *

**A/N:** _Fitz feels trapped between a rock and a hard place. He wants to get the divorce finalized with Mellie before telling Olivia, but from where he stands, it appears as though Olivia is moving on with her life. We know Ariel's not a factor, but Fitz doesn't._

_In the next chapter, Olivia finds out about Fitz filing for divorce. How will she react? How will Fitz respond? **Want a preview? Please post a review and I'll private message you an excerpt. Thanks! - Neo  
**_


	9. Saying it's over

_In another time we would be as one_  
_In another place our lives would've only just begun_  
_We walk beneath the sun, we lie beneath the stars_  
_We grow upon the Earth and this is what we are_  
_It didn't have to be this way but this is what we are_

_The wasted years have passed so slowly_  
_Without connection to my only_  
_The end is near defining lonely_  
_Is anybody there to show me?_

Lyrics: "String Theory" by Les Friction

**Chapter 8: Saying it's over **

"Olivia, what are you doing here?"

"You can't do it. I won't let you do it. You can't get a divorce."

**_"What?! Who told you?!_ **How do you know?!"

"Mellie came by my office and told me. You can't do it! This will ruin your chances for a second term."

Fitz leaned back in his chair in the Oval Office, rolled his eyes and mumbled under his breath, _"Here it comes…"_

"Mr. President, it makes no sense whatsoever for you to divorce the First Lady. Not now. You can't do it," Olivia said.

"Oh really? And who is going to stop me?" Fitz asked sarcastically.

"I am. I won't let you do this," Olivia said firmly.

"I didn't realize I needed your permission, Olivia," Fitz said standing up. "The train has already left the station, and this divorce is going to happen, even if it's the last thing I accomplish on this earth," he said, the anger building in his voice.

"You're making a mistake. Don't do this. You'll regret it."

"Oh really? Will I? How do you know I'll regret it?"

"There are too many people counting on you. You can't let your family down, your country down," Olivia said, her voice firm and resolute.

"Olivia, spare me the _"You were born for greatness" _speech. You've given it one too many times already. I'm sick and tired of everyone, including you, controlling my life!"

"It's not right. You can't do this. Think of your legacy, how history will regard you," she continued.

**_"Fuck history!"_**

"I…I…I can't support you in this decision," she stammered.

"Well, you know what, Olivia? It wouldn't be the first time!"

"Fitz, please don't be like that," Olivia pleaded with him. "Everything that I've done, I've done to protect you, to protect your presidency, your reputation."

**_"My God!_ **After everything,**_EVERYTHING_ **that we've been through,******__****you still don't get it!"** he exclaimed, shaking his head, his temper rising to the surface.

Olivia just looked at Fitz confused.

"You almost died in Pakistan, Olivia, and I came _thisclose _to losing you," Fitz said angrily, walking toward her and holding up his thumb and index finger almost together. "When I found out you were kidnapped, I was in agony, sheer agony. I literally almost lost my mind." Fitz turned away and walked toward the window so she wouldn't see the tears forming in his eyes. "The thought of you out there alone, terrified…and the idea that it was because of me, because of your connection to me why you were kidnapped…___(his voice cracking with emotion)._..God, I don't even want to think about it. I know it was horrific for you but it was terrible for me."

Olivia was reeling inside. She had been so battered by the kidnapping that when she started to emotionally recover, she and Fitz had never spoken about what it had been like for him. He had never said anything and she had never asked him. This was the first time Olivia was hearing any of this and she was stunned speechless.

**_"I love you._ _Do you not get that?! Do you not understand that?! _****I. LOVE. YOU. **I want to make a life with you. I want to raise a family with you. I want to grow old with you. I don't want to wait any longer. I can't wait any longer. Every day we're apart, I die a little and I don't want to keep my life on hold any longer." The words tumbled out of Fitz's mouth in one cascading wave.

As his words washed over Olivia, her heart skipped a beat. Fitz's declaration of love was absolutely perfect. He was angry and frustrated but he was being completely emotionally open with her. He wasn't holding back. Oh how she wanted to tell him how she really felt, that she felt exactly the same, that she too was slowly dying inside because they weren't together. But she couldn't. It wasn't right. Sacrifices had to be made, for the good of the country.

"Fitz, this decision you've made shouldn't be about me," Olivia said, a slight quiver in her voice. "This is bigger than just us. I…I…can't support this decision..."

"Say what you mean, Olivia!" Fitz thundered. "Are you saying that you won't be there when I'm finally a free man? Are you saying you don't want to make a life with me? Is that what you're saying?"

Olivia just looked at Fitz. She didn't know how to respond. The tone of the conversation had quickly escalated and had become way too emotional and personal.

Fitz was waiting for a response but none was forthcoming. Olivia just stood there and said nothing. He let out a heavy sigh and perched himself on the edge of his desk and looked at her. The seconds ticked by. Still no response from Olivia. She looked dazed and confused.

Fitz stood up and walked over to the window: "You know what? Just forget it. I realize now that I'm in this all by myself," he said looking out the window. "I thought that if I moved heaven and earth to be with you, that you'd meet me half way. God, what an idiot I am! I fooled myself into thinking that you felt the same way about me that I do about you, but who am I kidding? You don't. You never have. It's so clear to me now. I tricked myself into believing that if I just wanted us to happen hard enough, it would happen, but it can't because you feel nothing for me. I see that now." He slowly turned around to look at her, the last glimmer of hope he had slowly evaporating from his eyes.

Olivia looked at him, anxious and worried. "Fitz, I…I.." she stammered before he cut her off.

"You know you've never said "I love you" to me. Never, not once. It's pretty astonishing when you think about it," he said with a bitter laugh. "But it's so classic Olivia Pope. Always in control. Never vulnerable. Never let them see you sweat, right?"

Fitz walked around to the front of the desk to stand directly in front of her.

"Well, I've got news for you Olivia, I'm not getting a divorce for you. I'm doing this for me. This isn't about you, Olivia. This is about me and what I want out of life. I want to live in a way that is honest and transparent and I realize now that that's why you and I were probably never meant to be together because we started out as a lie, as a secret. I won't make that mistake again."

Olivia's heart sank. What was Fitz saying? She had never heard him speak like this before, not about her, not about them.

"The next time I fall in love it will be out in the open, with someone that I can love openly. Someone who will love me in return openly, without shame or guilt. Someone who won't be afraid to love me."

Fitz's words pierced Olivia's soul like a dagger through the heart. **_The next time?!_ **Olivia's inner voice screamed. She had never heard him speak like this before. He had always been the more optimistic and idealistic one. In the past, when they were still having the affair, it had always been about them, about Olivia waiting for him, about them sharing a life together some day in the future. But now, for the first time ever, Fitz was saying that he had given up on the dream, that he was ready to move on…without her. Olivia was confused. _This couldn't be happening, could it?_

Without saying a word, she walked right up to him and kissed him.

"Olivia, please, stop," Fitz said, pulling away from the kiss. "It's over. We're over. You've moved on and I'm finally OK with that. It's time for me to move on too."

Olivia reached up and tried to kiss him again. Fitz gently pushed her away. "Livvie, you'll be OK. This is what you've wanted me to do all along, isn't it? To let you go. So I'm letting you go."

Fitz's words turned Olivia into a marble statue. She was rooted in place, unable to move, still unable to speak.

The POTUS turned and walked away. "That'll be all, Ms. Pope," he said, dismissing her.

Olivia's chest tightened as all the oxygen inside her came rushing out. She maintained her composure as she left the White House but hot tears were streaming down her face by the time she reached her car. She fumbled in her purse to find her car keys and when she couldn't find them she almost broke the car window just so that she could get inside and get away from this place that had only brought her sadness and heartbreak. Finally, she found the keys and stumbled into the car. She stared straight ahead her vision blurry and watery. So it had finally come to this. Fitz had let her go.

The dream was over. Her dream was over. All this time, all these years, she had been fighting her feelings for Fitz and pushing him away. Now, he was finally doing what she had thought she wanted…walking away, and she was devastated. Olivia felt like her heart had been ripped out of her chest. Is this how Fitz felt when she and Mellie conspired to keep him in the White House after the Amanda Tanner sex tape fiasco? The pain was unbearable.

_I've lost him. I've lost him for good. How could I have been so stupid? So stubborn? No, no, no, this isn't the end. This can't be the end! I won't let it be the end!_

Olivia hopped out of her car and went storming back into the White House and headed to the West Wing.

* * *

**A/N: **_OK, Gladiators, it ain't over 'til it's over. Fitz is sick and tired of being sick and tired and has kicked Olivia to the curb. But saying it's over is one thing. Actually meaning it is another! Olivia __finally__ speaks and explains herself in the next update. But will Fitz listen to what she has to say? _**___Wanna preview? You know the drill. Review = private message update before rest of the general public___****__****.**

_**Thanks for reading and reviewing! **_

_Neo_

P.S. To Mialee1976 and any other readers who want me to post my previews via Twitter, I can't. My Twitter account is tied to my day job, so it's strictly business, meaning I can't post fun (i.e. personal, non-professional stuff) on my Twitter account. If anyone wants a preview but they're not registered on this site but are registered on IMDB, email me there and I'll give you the preview on through the PM site over there. I've got the same username at IMDB as I do here.


	10. From Breakup 2 Makeup

******Chapter 9: From Breakup 2 Makeup**  


**A/N:** That last chapter was tough, wasn't it? But a lot of you loved it because Fitz finally mans up and shows Olivia who's boss. LOL. I hope that this is the Fitz we'll see in Season 2 of the TV show.

Thank you, thank you, **THANK YOU(!)** for all your comments and reviews. I enjoyed reading every single one of them. Many of them had me howling and dying of laughter.

Some highlights:

From QueenPeach: **_"Liv….he should left yo ass in the desert….Now I hope she cleans her face & goes back n there and tell that man she loves him. Liv b ready to open them legs girl."_** LMAO!

From RealCamille: _**"At the same time that I was saying "No!... No!... No!..." with every word Fitz spoke, as the dagger turned and twisted every wicha way, I was also saying "Yes!... Yes!... Yes!..." THAT'S what you get, Olivia!" **_Yep, payback is a bitch!

From PiscesChikk: _**"dear sweet baby Jesus. yes yes yes, yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaassssssss. THIS is the fitz i lurve. i LOVE forceful fitz. he was assertive, direct and convicted. and 12 kinds of sexy." **_Fitz McSexy, yes!

From Lboogie23:_** "Fitz went straight H.A.M. on Liv."**_ LMAO!

From InspiredToRead: _**"Fix this!...OK, I'm going back to rocking in my corner and silently weeping like these two were real ppl. FML!"**_

From Stevie'Sgirl: _**"The country will be fine without Fitz. The US has always survived no matter who is in the White House."**_ Agreed!

From Juicy28: _**"Liv better go back to him and pour her heart out and if he tells her to jump she better ask how fucking high!" **_Amen!

From Missjayd: _**"I just keep reading till the end of the chapter and then I'm annoyed that it's over."**_ LOL. I like your honesty.

From Domaris1:_** "Liv go get your man back girl!"**_ Yes, yes, yes!

* * *

**Chapter 9: From Breakup 2 Makeup**

Mrs. Hanley, the President's secretary, was on the phone but saw Olivia fast approaching. It was clear that she was upset.

"Ms. Pope, you can't go in there. The President is in a meeting," Mrs. Hanley said, rising from her chair, but Olivia wasn't hearing it. No one was going to stop her.

Olivia burst into the Oval Office to find the POTUS seated there with CIA Director Cameron Reynolds, National Security Advisor Ian MacMillan, and White House Chief of Staff Cyrus Beene. Mrs. Hanley came scurrying in behind Olivia. "Mr. President, I'm so sorry, Ms. Pope just blew right past me!"

"Mr. President, may I please have a word with you," Olivia said, standing in the doorway looking directly at Fitz.

Cyrus, Cam and Mac all looked shocked.

"Ms. Pope, as you can see, I'm in the middle of a security briefing," Fitz said coldly and calmly. "Please make an appointment with my secretary."

"Mr. President, this can't wait." Olivia said, maintaining eye contact.

Fitz let out a heavy sigh and said to the three men, "gentlemen, I need the room. Give me five minutes, please."

"But Mr. President, we've got a full agenda and…"

"Cy, just give me five minutes, OK?" Fitz said quietly.

The three men got up and left the room. Fitz remained seated on the couch. Olivia remained standing but said nothing.

"So, what is it, Ms. Pope?" Fitz asked.

Olivia said nothing and continued to just stand there. Fitz noticed that her appearance was uncharacteristically messy. Her mascara and lipstick were smudged. Her eyes were bloodshot red and runny. The normally calm, serene and polished façade of Olivia Pope was cracked.

Olivia began to pace.

"Ms. Pope, seriously, if you have nothing to say, please leave," Fitz said coldly.

Olivia opened her mouth to speak but the words didn't come out. She looked at Fitz, her eyes pleading him to help her out. His facial expression was impassive, completely unreadable.

"OK, I can see that this is a complete waste of my time," he said. He got up and went to the door and opened it.

"Hal, can you come here, please?" Fitz said, calling over his Secret Service agent. He whispered something into the agent's ear that Olivia couldn't hear. Hal then said, "Are you sure, Sir?"

"Yes, Hal," the POTUS said. "Please escort Ms. Pope from the Oval Office."

Olivia flew into a panic. "Mr. President, please, there's something I need to say. Something I should've said before!"

"Hal, get her out of here." Fitz's voice was authoritative and firm.

"I just need a minute, please, _**just one minute!**_" Olivia begged, almost on the brink of hysteria.

"Ms. Pope, please! Go with Hal. **_Now!_**" Fitz ordered.

Oliva's heart sank. _Oh my God_, she thought, _this is really it.__ It's really over. __Shit!_

"Ms. Pope, please, come with me," said Hal, escorting Olivia from the Oval Office.

Olivia was stunned. Her vision was blurry as the tears threatened to fall, but she quickly blinked them back struggling to keep her composure as the Secret Service agent led her away from the West Wing. Olivia was too upset to immediately notice that instead of walking her to the exit, Hal was taking her up to the White House residence. When they reached the stairs, she stopped and asked, "Hal, where are we going? Aren't you supposed to be kicking me out?" But Hal kept on walking and only replied, "Ms. Pope, please, follow me."

Once they reached the second floor, Hal ushered Olivia into the Executive Residence living room and then shut the door behind him. Olivia looked around. The last time she was in the Executive Residence was when she and Mellie ambushed Fitz into staying on in the presidency. Not a good memory. Olivia sighed. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. She wanted to leave. She went to the door and opened it, but when she stepped into the hall, Hal popped up and said, "Ms. Pope, I have strict orders from the President to keep you up here until he arrives. Please return to the living room."

Olivia sulked back into the living room and closed the door. Fitz was willing to see her, it seemed, but he was making her wait. Was that a good sign or a bad sign, she wondered. She couldn't think straight. God, why didn't she just say what she wanted to say earlier when she was in the Oval Office?

This whole day had been a fucking disaster, starting with that unannounced visit from the First Lady. Mellie knew exactly what she was doing when she spilled the beans about the divorce to Olivia. She knew that Olivia would go straight to Fitz to try to talk him out of it. And now, here Olivia was, trapped in a gilded cage of her own making.

Olivia had been in the room for almost 90 minutes when Fitz finally arrived. Although she had had some time to calm down and collect her thoughts, she was still a bundle of raw nerves. When Fitz entered the room, Olivia hopped up off the sofa.

"So, you're still here," he said drily, walking right past her. "Thought you would have come to your senses and left the White House by now."

"What? Hal brought me up here at your orders," Olivia said in surprised voice. "I couldn't have left even if I wanted to."

"Yes, and I'm sure you wanted to, didn't you, Ms. Pope," Fitz said with visible disdain.

He was pissed. Olivia could hear it in his voice. That, and the fact that he was now referring to her by her last name.

Fitz took off his jacket and loosened his tie. He threw the jacket over the back of a chair and then opened a small cabinet, took out a bottle of Scotch and poured himself a glass. He took a sip and then sat down on the couch facing Olivia who was standing about 10 feet away. She nervously began pacing.

Fitz looked at Olivia and then looked at his watch. "Ms. Pope, this is really starting to become ridiculous. I thought we said all there was to say earlier this afternoon. If you have something else to say, just spit it out."

Olivia stopped pacing.

"I don't deserve you. I didn't deserve you. That's why you've given up on us, on me," Olivia blurted out.

"What? What did you just say?" said Fitz, leaning forward.

"I don't deserve you. I've never deserved you. That's what's been my problem all along."

Fitz put his glass of Scotch on the side table, stood up and walked toward Olivia. He maintained some distance. He didn't say a word and just looked at her.

"You've been nothing but wonderful to me, willing to sacrifice so much for me, sacrifice everything for me, and I've just never believed that I was truly worthy of your love."

"Olivia…" he said taking another step toward her.

"Fitz, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I've hurt you repeatedly. I'm sorry I've put up so many barriers. I'm sorry that I've kept us apart. It was so convenient for me to use your marriage and your presidency as the reasons why we could never be together." Olivia was crying now. "By saying that, I could blame you. But the truth is is that I'm the reason why we're not together, not you. You've done everything humanly possible to show me that your love is true, but I haven't done the same."

"Liv," Fitz said, his face softening as he took another step closer.

"Fitz, the truth is is that loving you scares me. Loving you excites me, but it also frightens me. Loving you means that I entrust my heart to you completely and that scares me."

It was slight, ever so slight, but a glimmer of hope appeared in Fitz's grey-blue eyes.

"But I can tell you right now that nothing has ever scared me as much as the feeling I had today after you told me that you were ready to move on," she continued.

_"Livvie, I..."_

"No, hush, don't say a word. Let me finish. I need to say this," she paused, taking a deep breath. "Today when you told me that the next time you fall in love, oh my god, I felt my soul split in two. I'm sorry but I don't want there to be a "next time" for you."

She looked up at Fitz who raised a hand to her cheek and began to lightly stroke it.

"Fitz, you think that I've moved on. The truth is is that I haven't," Olivia continued, gaining strength from his touch to finish what she had to say. "I can't move on because there is no one else. There will never ever be anyone else. I love you, only you, forever you."

And with that simple statement, an emotional dam burst. Fitz closed the physical gap between them, leaned down and kissed her, capturing her lips with his own. Immense relief mixed with intense desire as they hungrily kissed each other. When they finally came up for air, Fitz said in a husky whisper, "say it again."

"I love you, Fitz," Olivia replied. "I love you, only you, forever you."

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" Fitz said, a smile on his lips.

Olivia returned the smile and said, "you have no idea." She then reached up to kiss his lips again. Fitz placed his left hand behind Olivia's head and deepened the kiss. This kiss felt different from the ones she had experienced before. It felt like he was imprinting her and the intensity of it was like an electric current that ignited a warm tingling sensation in her body.

Fitz broke away from the kiss and went to the door and locked it. "We've had enough interruptions for a lifetime," he said, smiling at Olivia. "I'm not taking any more chances."

Olivia leapt into Fitz's arms and whispered in his ear, _"neither am I."_ She wrapped her legs around his waist and started kissing him again.

Their kissing was possessive and heated. The energy and the passion that was flowing between them threatened to blow out the windows of the White House. Fitz pulled away and gently put Olivia down.

_"Take off your clothes,"_ he said in a hoarse whisper. _"I wanna be inside you. Now."_

Olivia quickly stripped off her clothes and as soon as she got down to her bra and panty, Fitz scooped her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist again. He began to kiss and bite her neck. His hands cupped her butt as he walked them together to the couch and he dropped her down. Olivia smiled up at him and then Fitz descended on her planting more feverish kisses across her neck and then returning to her lips. His hand slid up Olivia's thigh and then over to her hot, wet core. Fitz's hand shoved Olivia's panty aside and he slipped two fingers inside her and pumped them in and out. When he pulled them out, his digits were drenched.

Fitz quickly stood up, as though he had been burned. A look, a mixture of worry and alarm, momentarily crossed Olivia's face. "What's wrong? Where are you going?"

Fitz didn't answer. Olivia tried to sit up on the couch, her eyes completely on him.

He was staring at her with a look of burning lustful intensity that she had never seen before.

He quickly unbuckled his belt and took off his pants and his boxers. He was fully erect and standing there in all his naked glory looking like Michaelangelo's statue of David. Olivia gasped. _Fuck me_, she thought, _when had Fitz become this Greek god_?! she silently wondered.

Still on the couch, Olivia sat up and went to reach for Fitz's huge, thick and throbbing member when he pulled her up to a standing position, swept her into his arms and carried her into the adjoining master bedroom.

He kicked the door shut and while still carrying Olivia, somehow he locked the door with one hand. He then threw her on the bed. Olivia looked around, a little wave of panic beginning to rise inside her. "Fitz, what about Mel…." but before she could finish her thought, Fitz's mouth crashed down on top of hers and he was hungrily kissing her once again. Olivia was writhing underneath him and when she moved her hand to try to stroke his cock, Fitz grabbed her hand and then the other and raised them both above her head and pinned them there.

She could feel the tip of his huge cock teasing the folds of her slick, hot entrance and then suddenly he pushed inside her. It had been a very long time since Olivia had last had sex and her cunt was extremely tight and wet. She moaned as he penetrated her and began to move inside her.

_"Oh, fuck, shit, Livvie, fuck, you feel fucking amazing,"_ Fitz gritted out as he thrust deep inside her. _"God, I've missed you so much."_

Her hands now free, they dropped down to Fitz's back and then down to his butt. She squeezed his firm butt cheeks and goaded him on, encouraging him to thrust deeper and faster inside her.

Fitz hit a rhythm that quickly sent Olivia to the brink. She was either out of practice when it came to sex or Fitz was just that good because she was soon coming.

"Oh God, Oh God, Fitz, yeah, ah, _**Ah, AHHHHH**_," her moan turning into a primal scream as the walls of her pussy convulsed and an intense orgasm rocked her body.

But Fitz wasn't done with her yet. He continued to go at her full force, pumping in and out of her. Olivia felt another orgasm coming on. Fitz was insatiable like a man possessed. He lifted her legs and pushed them against her stomach and chest. Olivia whimpered as he pounded her pussy. He pulled out and dipped his hand down and began to play with her clit. He sensed that she was close to climaxing once again and he positioned himself at her entrance and penetrated her again, thrusting hard and fast. Within moments they came together.

Afterwards, they lay facing one another, their bodies covered in sweat. Olivia draped a leg over Fitz's hip and he had an arm around her waist. "That was _ah-mazing_," Olivia said, drawing out the word. "You are incredible," she whispered in his ear.

"You're not so bad yourself," Fitz said, with a smirk. He began to kiss and lightly bite her neck and Olivia could feel herself becoming wet again. When Fitz's mouth traveled up to hers, Olivia moaned, "Fitz, I need you inside me," and he rolled over so that Olivia was now on top of him.

And so it went for the next two hours. They completely lost track of time as they continued to explore and pleasure each other's bodies. When they were finally through, Fitz fell fast asleep. Olivia wiggled out from underneath his arm that was wrapped around her. She got up and looked for her bra and panty which were somewhere on the floor. She ran into the bathroom and washed her face and rinsed out her mouth. She looked in the mirror and shrieked. Her hair was a hot, ratty mess but there was nothing she could do about it now. She then chuckled and smiled at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, thinking about how her hair had wound up in that condition. "Worth it, most definitely worth it," she said to herself. She then tiptoed out to the living room to get the rest of her clothes. She moved silently and quickly got dressed. She reached into her purse and pulled out her phone. It was almost 8 o'clock. Olivia made a little face and hoped she didn't bump into anyone on the way out. She wanted to leave before Fitz woke up.

She went back into the master bedroom. Fitz was laid out on his stomach, fast asleep, with one arm dangling over the side of the bed and the sheets twisted beneath and around his lower body. She leaned over to give him a kiss on the cheek. He looked so peaceful and sweet. A lock of his curly hair lay on his forehead. Olivia was tempted to twirl that curl around her finger.

_God, this man is beautiful,_ she thought, admiring his body. Even at rest, it was obvious that Fitz had been working out, hitting the weights and eating right. His body looked like that of a fit athlete with the contours of his developed muscles on full display. Olivia was very appreciative of the fact that he had been taking care of himself. She didn't know what Fitz had been doing while they had been apart, but whatever it was, it was working.

She sat down on the edge of the bed, leaned over and inhaled his scent. She then began to lightly stroke his wavy hair allowing her fingers to frolic in his curls. Fitz began to rumble back to life and even through the haze of sleep, he noticed that she was now fully dressed. "Hey you," he said, drowsily, looking up at her. "Where do you think you're going?" he said, pulling her mouth down toward his. And with that, they were back at making love again.

* * *

**A/N:** _This is the longest chapter to date for this story. Hope you liked it. It's clear that Fitz's weak spot is Olivia and try as he may, he just can't stay pissed at her for very long! LOL! _

_I hope you're not too disappointed that I didn't draw out the angst and make the Olitz breakup last for a few chapters. I thought about doing that and then realized that would make it harder for me to maintain the story's momentum. You already made it clear you didn't want Fitz to have a real romantic rival, so extending this particular breakup story arc for a few more chapters with a romantic focus for Olivia would have wound up being very difficult for me to create dramatic tension. I would've had to invent or introduce some new characters for Olivia to interact with and that would've moved the needle of the story away from where I want it to eventually end up. If any of you would've liked to have seen a longer breakup period between Liv and Fitz, let me know. I'm curious to hear what you think.  
_

_Next chapter we'll get a Mellie update and see how Fitz gets Olivia out of the White House. **Thanks for reading and reviewing!**_


	11. The Nutcracker

**A/N:** Loved reading your reviews! As always, there were some really funny comments that made me laugh out loud.

From Lboogie23: "_**Let us pray (heads down, hands up) Thank you lord for blessing Liv with game immediately! AMEN!"**_

From PiscesChikk:_** "oh i love the part about 'his left' gripping her. TG is a lefty and what i always notice is whenever he's tryna touch Liv, once he puts that left hand kung fu grip on her its over."  
**_

From dettylover:_**"Um, Mellie, you need to pack yo shit because this was the first of MANY moments in this bed for me and my true wife."  
**_

Btw, I'm really surprised that only one person picked up on the "just one minute" reference. Maybe you guys caught that but just didn't mention it in your review? Also Fitz (pretend) asking the Secret Service to kick Liv out was supposed to be a reference to the TV show where Cyrus kicked Liv out of the WH. _**  
**_

Anyway, the overall reaction to the previous chapter was that you were happy that the "breakup" of Olitz lasted less than two hours. (LOL) A couple people had hoped Fitz and Olivia were broken up for real for at least for a few chapters. But I think many of you were tired of the separation between the two and were ready for Liv to tell Fitz how she really felt and not to play any more games.

This update was going to be a long chapter that covered Mellie's reaction and Fitz getting Olivia out of the White House. But after finishing it, I realized that it felt like it should be two separate chapters. So here's the Mellie part. I'll post the part about Fitz getting Olivia out of the White House as the next chapter.

*********Explanation of story timeline*********

**Chapters 8 - 11 occur on the same day**. (Chapter numbers are off by one in the Fan Fiction table of contents because one "chapter" was actually an author's note explaining a change of direction in the story.)

**Chap. 8: Saying it's Over** (Olivia arrives at WH. Fitz breaks up with her sometime between 3:30 and 4 p.m.)

**Chap. 9: Breakup 2 Makeup** (Olivia returns to WH within minutes of leaving. Fitz keeps her waiting for 90 minutes. Lovemaking begins somewhere between 5:30 and 6 p.m. Goes for approximately two hours. When Liv gets dressed to leave, the time is almost 8 p.m.)

**Chapter 10: The Nutcracker** (Mellie arrives home around 6 p.m. Fitz and Olivia are having sex.)

**Chapter 11 (Title still to be decided)** Starts around 11:30 p.m. Fitz and Olivia have spent the whole evening together and now he needs to get her out of the WH.

* * *

**Chapter 10: The Nutcracker**

Mellie sunk into the soft leather backseat of the presidential SUV. She was very pleased with herself. When her assistant told her that a literacy event being held in her honor had been cancelled due to security concerns, Mellie decided that she wanted to fill that time slot on her calendar with an impromptu visit to Pope & Associates. Although Mellie was confident that her little tell-all book blackmail was enough to keep Fitz in line, she wanted to completely stack the deck against him. One way to do that, she knew, was to get Olivia Pope on her side. Mellie's strategy was simple: Get Olivia to talk Fitz out of a divorce for the sake of the presidency and the sake of the country. It had worked once; it would work again, Mellie thought.

As the presidential SUV made its way to Mellie's afternoon appointment at a local homeless shelter, the First Lady reflected on her meeting with Olivia. When Mellie told Olivia that she planned to fight Fitz on the divorce, Olivia was shocked. It turns out that she didn't even know that Fitz had asked for a divorce. Mellie chuckled at the memory of the look of shock and despair on Olivia's face when she got the news. For a moment, Mellie had a pang of self-doubt as she briefly considered the possibility that perhaps Olivia no longer had influence over Fitz. If that were the case, that would mean that Mellie had gone on a fool's errand. But as soon as the thought occurred to her, she dismissed it.

It was early evening when Mellie finally made her way back to the White House. The Grant kids were out of town on an overnight school trip, and so Mellie was looking forward to having an early dinner and then enjoying a nice long soak in the jacuzzi tub back at the White House. If she timed it just right, she'd get to bed and be fast asleep by the time Fitz finished up work and came up from the Oval Office. That way she wouldn't have to even see him.

Mellie was in her own little world thinking of bath salts and looking forward to wrapping herself inside her fluffy white spa robe, when reality intruded. When she turned the knob to the living room door, she found it was locked. _What the hell, _she thought.

She turned and looked and saw Hal running up the stairs. "Hey, Hal, this is so weird, but the door to the living room is locked.," Mellie said, genuinely confused. "This door is never locked. Is the Secret Service inside doing a security sweep or something?"

"Ma'am, I need you to come with me," Hal said, avoiding her question.

By that reaction, Mellie knew right away that something was wrong. "Oh my God, Hal, what's happening? Is there a threat on the White House?"

"Ma'am, please, I have orders to escort you to the Green Room downstairs," Hal replied.

"Orders? On whose orders? Hal, just tell me what's going on?" Mellie said, panic entering her voice.

"Orders from the President, ma'am."

Mellie's female intuition kicked in and in that moment she knew - the White House wasn't under attack. Fitz was up to something and the truth lay beyond that door.

"Hal, open this door!" Mellie exclaimed.

"Mrs. Grant, I can't do that," Hal calmly stated.

"You can't or you won't?" Mellie said, getting up in the Secret Service agent's face. She jabbed a finger into his chest. "You better tell me who the hell is in there with my husband right now or I'll have your government security clearance revoked so fast that the only job you'll be able to ever find after this one will be as a mall cop. _**Now, OPEN THE GODDAMN DOOR!"**_

Hal calmly said, "Ma'am, you cannot go in there. I need you to step away from the door."

_**"OK, FINE!"**_ Mellie roared. It seemed like she was going to walk away when she suddenly turned around and gave the Secret Service agent a swift kick to the balls. Hal, who wasn't expecting that, fell down with a thud, almost blacking out from the excruciating pain. Mellie reached into his pants pocket and rooted around for the master key that opened up all the rooms in the Executive Residence. Hal was writhing in pain on the floor. Mellie finally found what she was looking for and held the master key up triumphantly. Hal, still gasping in pain, lifted his arm up to his face and spoke into his radio hidden in the sleeve of his coat, _"Man down. Non-fatal. Send back-up."_

Mellie, meanwhile, rushed to open the door to the living room. She jiggled the key inside the lock, opened it and rushed into the living room. She stumbled and looked down. Lying in her path was a pair of beige suede Jimmy Choo pumps. A few feet away were an ivory Armani jacket and pants. The jacket was the same one that Mellie had seen Olivia wearing earlier in the day. On the floor next to the couch lying in an untidy heap were Fitz's shoes, shirt and pants. His belt and tie were dangling off the coffee table and his boxer shorts had become an unlikely lampshade on top of a nearby lamp.

Mellie's face dropped.

She started walking toward the master bedroom, when the sounds of lovemaking stopped her.

_Thunk, thunk, thunk. _

The sound of the headboard knocking against the wall provided the syncopation to Olivia's moans. _"Ah, ah, yeah, right there, oh god, don't stop, yesss, yessss, yessssss."_

All the color drained from Mellie's face. The backup Secret Service agents would be arriving any moment. Mellie needed to save face. She quickly regained her composure and ran back outside to the hallway. She shut the door to the living room and then reached down to help Hal stand up. "I'm so, so, sorry. I totally lost my head back there. Please forget that all of this happened, OK?"

Hal glared at her. But he knew that it would only raise more questions about the president's "extracurricular activities" if he told the truth to his superiors. Besides, he wanted to save face too. His colleagues would never let him live it down if they knew he had been taken down by a swift kick to the nuts by the First Lady.

In that moment, two other agents came running up the stairs. They saw Hal slumped against the wall and the First Lady attending to him. Mellie went right into First Lady mode.

"Oh, my goodness, this is horrible! I came rushing out of the living room and wasn't watching where I was going and I knocked heads with Hal," Mellie said in her sweetest, most apologetic voice. "It was a pretty nasty collision. Please, take care of him, right away!"

Mellie then turned and ran downstairs to the East Wing. It was after 6 p.m. so her entire staff was gone. She went to her office and slammed the door. Her supposedly well-thought out plan to checkmate Fitz and bring him back into line had completely backfired. Instead of driving a wedge between Fitz and Olivia and securing her place as First Lady, Mellie's actions had achieved the completely opposite result. Mellie had actually brought them together and her status as First Lady was now in serious jeopardy. _"**Shit!" **_Mellie screamed behind the closed door of her office.

_Jesus Christ, Fitz and Olivia fucking in my bed! MY BED!_ Mellie couldn't believe it. How humiliating! Fitz had some nerve.

_And Olivia, that fucking slut, how dare she!_ Mellie wanted to rip her hair out, she was so angry. She wished she had a sawed off shotgun so she could blow both their heads off.

Mellie looked up at the ceiling, thinking about what was going on right at that moment above her head. Fitz was going to pay for this. And pay dearly. And she'd make sure that uppity black bitch got what was coming to her too. Both Fitz and Olivia would live to regret the day that they humiliated Mellie Grant, she would make certain of that.

* * *

**A/N: "_Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned" _**

Sounds like Mellie. But she has no idea what Fitz has got in store for her. (lol) More will be revealed in the next update. It's already written, so a sneak peek is available to everyone who leaves a review. Thanks for reading and reviewing!


	12. Mr Clean

_**A/N: Chaps 9-11 all take place on the same day.**_

**Chapter 11: Mr. Clean**

_11:25 p.m._

Ryan Bishop was home watching ESPN's Sports Center when the phone rang. The caller id said private, which meant it could be any one of a number of people calling him. There was nothing Bishop enjoyed more at the end of a long day than relaxing in front of the TV with a beer and watching Sports Center. The fact that someone was now calling this late irked him because it meant that it was work related.

"Ryan Bishop," he answered.

_"Bishop, it's Pres. Grant. Sorry for calling so late but I need to ask you a question,"_ said Fitz.

"Good evening, Mr. President!" Bishop said, snapping to attention. "How can I help you?"

_"Do you know where Olivia Pope is right now?"_ Fitz asked.

The POTUS couldn't see Bishop's face but the professional bodyguard raised an eyebrow. _What was going on?_ he wondered.

"Yes sir. I can give you a status report with Ms. Pope's last known location if you give me a second," Bishop said, cradling the phone between his shoulder and ear as he reached over to pull his iPad out of his work bag sitting on a chair.

Bishop roused the iPad out of its sleep state and then quickly logged on to his company's secure web site. There he would find 24/7 GPS positioning combined with his field agents' hourly reports of all current ongoing client projects. That day when Olivia Pope had brunch with Ariel Eisenstadt one of Bishop's agents, posing as a waiter, managed to slip a mini tracker inside her purse while she wasn't looking.

Bishop tapped the iPad screen. _Hmm, that was odd. This couldn't be right?_ But it had to be. His people tracking system was never wrong.

"Well, Mr. President, according to the status report, the last known location of Ms. Pope was the White House," Bishop said. "According to this, she entered the building twice today. The first time was at 3:11 p.m. She left and then returned at 3:49 p.m. and, according to this report, has not left. She's somewhere in the building."

_"Good,"_ Fitz replied.

"You knew that already, didn't you, sir?"

_"Yes, I did,"_ Fitz said, a smile in his voice. _"Sorry to scare you like that, but I was just checking to see how good a handle you have on where your clients are located. Very impressive."_

"Thank you, Mr. President," Bishop said, wondering what the heck this phone call was really about.

_"Look, Bishop, the situation has changed and I'm going to need you to expand the scope of your original assignment,"_ Fitz said.

"Of course, Mr. President. Whatever you want, I will do my best," Bishop said, his curiosity genuinely piqued.

_"As you already know, Ms. Pope is still in the White House. She's here with me,"_ Fitz said, pausing for effect. _"And I need you to come here, pick her up and escort her safely home."_

"Of course, Sir. It will be my pleasure," Bishop said, realizing that not only had the assignment changed but something else, something major, had changed as well.

_"Thank you, Bishop,"_ Fitz said. _"I also need your help with something else. It's a rather delicate matter that I can explain once you get here. See you in half an hour?"_

"Yes, sir," Bishop replied. "See you in 30."

And with that the call was over.

"Ryan, who was that?"

Bishop looked up to see Nadia, his Russian-born wife, standing in the doorway. She had just taken a shower and was towel drying her long, blonde hair.

"A client," Bishop said. "Babe, I've got to run to the office. Emergency. Don't wait up. Be back as soon as I can."

He grabbed his jacket, swiped the car keys off the side table by the front door and left the house.

A half hour later, Bishop was sitting in Fitz's private study attached to the Oval Office. The POTUS was dressed very casually wearing a charcoal grey JCrew sueded fleece sweatshirt and dark jeans. His hair was wet and slicked back, as though he had recently taken a shower and there was a visible five o'clock shadow emerging on his face. Most definitely not a presidential look, Bishop thought. In fact, Pres. Grant looked pretty down to earth, like a regular suburban SUV-driving soccer dad.

"Thanks for coming at this late hour and on such short notice," the POTUS began. "As you have probably already figured out, the situation with Ms. Pope has changed significantly and I wanted to have a talk with you about it."

Bishop nodded while taking a seat.

"The coming days, weeks and months are going to require an additional level of effort from you and your team and I want to make sure that BPS is up to the task," Fitz continued.

"Yes, of course, Mr. President," Bishop said.

"I'm getting a divorce," Fitz said, looking intently at Bishop for a reaction. But Bishop was a pro, so he didn't visibly react to the monumental confession he was hearing. But inwardly, Bishop was screaming: **_"DAYUMMMM! The President of the United States is getting a divorce!"_**

"Once this news breaks, as you can imagine, the level of public scrutiny and media interest in my personal life and the life of Ms. Pope will be unprecedented," Fitz said. "I'm going to need you to ramp up security for her."

"Of course," Bishop said, still shocked by the news that the President was getting a divorce while still in office and that he seemed to want to go public with his relationship with Olivia Pope. Wow!

"Would it be possible for you to find two decoys?" Fitz asked, interrupting Bishop's thoughts.

"Decoys, sir?" Bishop asked.

"Yes, two decoys. A male, who at a distance looks like me, and a female of about the same height and size as Olivia. There are going to be times in the near future that we'll need to have decoys to throw the media and paparazzi off our track," Fitz said.

"Well, sir, yes, actually one of my best agents is about the same height and build as you and has wavy hair similar to yours, so that won't be a problem. But regarding a decoy for Ms. Pope, unfortunately I don't have any African American females on my agent roster. As you know, all of my agents are former U.S. military, either Special Forces or Navy Seals, so no women in those ranks."

"Yes, I anticipated you were going to say that," Fitz said, taking out a business card and handing it to him. It was for a NYC modeling agency. "Please contact this agency and see if they have anyone who is similar in size and build as Olivia. For security and privacy reasons, we'll probably only be able to use this person once or twice. So see if you can find two or three different women who fit the general bill. That will give us some flexibility. Make sure they don't know what the assignment is. Keep that as vague as possible."

Bishop nodded his head. It was clear that the President had already given a lot of thought to how this situation was going to go down.

"Bishop, there's something else I need your assistance on," Fitz continued. "I'm still in the process of hashing out a final divorce agreement with the First Lady. We're currently at an impasse and I was wondering if your firm provides digital cleaning services?"

"Cleaning services, sir? I'm not sure I follow," Bishop said slowly.

"The First Lady has written a tell-all book that she's holding over my head as a way to derail this divorce. I need you to find it and burn it. There's a hard copy manuscript that exists, but I also want you to track down the digital copy. I'm sure she's got it backed up on a USB flash drive somewhere. There's a safe inside the master bedroom of the White House residence. It's got a biometric combination, so you're going to need Mellie's thumbprint. Here's the combination," Fitz said, sliding a small sheet of paper across to Bishop, "and here's a juice glass with her fingerprints on it." Fitz reached into his desk and took out a Ziploc baggie with a glass inside. He handed it to the professional bodyguard. "I need you to erase that drive and then put it back inside the safe exactly where you find it so that Mellie won't realize it's been tampered with."

Bishop smiled, shaking his head. He didn't condone infidelity, but this bond between the President and Olivia Pope obviously ran very deep. First he had ordered the assassination of one of the world's most notorious terrorists to get her back and now he was ordering Bishop to find and eliminate the materials that his future ex-wife was planning to use to bury him in the court of public opinion. This was clearly not some fling or mid-life crisis. "Mr. President, you've thought of everything, haven't you'?"

"Hopefully," Fitz said, trying to suppress a huge grin.

"Let me introduce you to Olivia," Fitz said, standing up and walking toward the door that separated his private study from the Oval Office. When he opened the door, Olivia, who had been sitting on the couch, stood up.

"Mr. President!" she said, brightly.

"Livvie, cut the formality. He already knows the truth," Fitz said, chuckling. "Ryan Bishop, please meet Olivia Pope. Olivia, Bishop is the head of BPS, a private security firm that is going to provide you with protection."

"You mean a bodyguard?" Olivia asked. "Fitz, is that really necessary? I don't think so."

Fitz walked over to Olivia and gave her light hug. He then whispered in her ear, "Babe, this isn't up for negotiation. Don't challenge me in front of this man."

Olivia grimaced and then caught herself. A lot of things were going to radically change in her life and one of them was that as the girlfriend of the President of the United States, she was going to have to be submissive on some level. Maybe not in private, but in public she could not be viewed as a woman who was pulling the president's strings. He had to be in charge. He had to maintain that authority; otherwise all credibility and respect in him as a leader would be shot. She and Fitz still hadn't had a serious discussion about what came next for them as a couple, but it was clear that she needed to let go and allow him to take the lead on this.

"Livvie, Bishop is going to take you home," Fitz said, giving her a quick peck on the lips. "We'll talk tomorrow, OK?"

Olivia gave a small smile and nodded.

"Bishop, I'll be in touch with next steps for that other assignment we talked about," Fitz added.

"Yes, sir. Good night."

"Good night."

And with that, they were gone.

* * *

**A/ N:** Fitz is a little bossy and domineering. What's your reaction to him telling Olivia not to contradict him in public? Olivia is used to being boss, being in charge and barking orders at people. Do you think she can make the attitude adjustment required to be Fitz's lady? It's definitely going to be tough for her, at least initially.

OK, confession time for me. When I originally thought of this chapter, I thought I'd create some sort of elaborate scenario to sneak Olivia out of the White House right under Mellie's nose, but I got a little bit of writer's block, so I just went back to a conventional angle - Olivia walked out of the WH with Ryan Bishop.

But in the next chapter, I'll give a little detail about how Fitz intends to cover-up Olivia's (almost) sleepover at the White House.

_**Thanks everyone for continuing to follow, read and review this story. Your reviews are the fuel that power this story, so keep them coming, please! :)** _

There's no preview available yet for Chap 12, so not sure when I'll post the next update, but I'll get cracking very soon.

See you later!

-Neo


	13. Doubt

**A/N:** Gladiators, I'm so glad I'm not the only one who loves, loves, **LOVES Fitz when he's bossy and assertive**. Enough with President Emo, who wears his heart on his sleeve, cries in his Scotch and allows his wife and girlfriend to jerk him around, right? Of course, we appreciate and still wanna cuddle Fitz when he shows his sensitive side, but we love him even more when he's large and in charge, telling people what to do, not taking any crap from anyone and generally getting in touch with his inner thug. (lol!) Hopefully, we'll see a more assertive, cynical, bad ass Fitz in Season 2 of the TV series.

But here in this storyline, Fitz better watch out, because here comes Hurricane Mellie! She had a terrible night, crashing in her East Wing office while her bed was otherwise occupied. ;)

This chapter takes place the morning after, and Mellie is Pissed, with a capital P, by what's gone on the night before. But how she handles and redirects her anger in this chapter may actually surprise you. _Read on…_

* * *

**Chapter 12: Doubt**

"You've got some fucking nerve," Mellie said.

"Good morning to you, too," Fitz said, smiling brightly. He was eating breakfast when Mellie walked into the dining room, dark circles under her eyes and still wearing the clothing she had on the day before.

"You must really, really hate me," she spat out. "To humiliate me like that. What sort of man does that to his wife?"

"A man who no longer wants to be married to you. A man who will do whatever it takes to be rid of you," Fitz said matter of factly. "I want that divorce, Mellie."

"Oh my God, when did you become so mean Fitz? So cruel and heartless?" Mellie asked.

_"Me? Cruel and heartless?"_ Fitz scoffed, standing up to be eye level with her. "That's rich, coming from you!"

"Do you have any idea what it was like last night for me to arrive and find myself locked out of my own home? Because that's what this place is…my home. And that was my bed you and Olivia were fucking in last night. God, it makes me sick to think about the two of you. You make me sick!"

"The feeling is mutual," Fitz replied. "But what happened here last night is directly the result of your actions."

_"You're going to blame me?!_ You lying, cheating, son of a bitch, you're going to blame me for my own humiliation?!"

"No, you know what? I'm in too good of a mood this morning to spoil it. No, I'm not going to blame you. In fact, I'm going to thank you, Mellie," Fitz said, putting his hands on her shoulders and looking her straight in the eye. "I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Honestly."

Mellie looked shocked and confused.

_"Thank me?_ Thank me for what?"

"Thanks to you, Olivia has come back to me. Thanks to you and that little stunt you pulled yesterday by going to Olivia's office and telling her about the divorce, you actually forced Olivia to do something that she had been unwilling to do, even after her kidnapping, which was tell me how she really felt about me."

Mellie looked aghast. She angrily knocked Fitz's hands off of her shoulders and walked away.

"Thanks to you, Mellie, the love of my life has declared her love for me and that she wants to make a life with me," Fitz said, rubbing salt into the wound. "There's no use continuing to fight me on this. Sign the divorce papers and let's both get on with our lives."

Mellie didn't know how much more of this constant humiliation she could take. Yes, she'd be the first to admit that she and Fitz had never actually been in love, true love, with one another. But he had always treated her with respect, until now. This divorce was bringing out the worst in him and the worst in her. She shuddered in embarrassment thinking about her unprovoked attack the night before on Hal, the hapless Secret Service agent. She shouldn't have kicked him in the balls, but in that moment she was so angry, so crazed….well, that wasn't her. That wasn't the real her.

_Why was Fitz so eager to throw everything away? _she wondered. In her mind, she mentally ticked off the accomplishments they had achieved together, as a team: _Harvard Law School, two terms as California's Governor, 2 kids, 20 years of marriage, President of the United States, Leader of the Free World. They worked 20 years to get to this point. **Twenty goddamn years!**_

"I know our marriage is less than ideal," Mellie began to say. Fitz raised an eyebrow. "But I can't understand, for the life of me, why you're so willing to throw everything away? And for what? Great sex and butterflies in the stomach when you and Olivia see each other?" Mellie asked, mockingly.

"Mel, you know what I feel for Olivia is more than an infatuation," Fitz said calmly.

"Do I? Is it more than just an infatuation? The two of you hardly even know one another! All of your interactions have occurred inside a bubble. **This love connection that you think the two of you have was created and grown in a petri dish. _It's not real, Fitz!_ _It's going to shrivel up and die once it's exposed to the real world!_ _How can you not see that?!"_**

Fitz's jaw clenched. He had to hand it to Mellie. She was intuitively sharp and knew exactly where to place the knife to make the deepest cut. She had gotten down to the crux of the fear that had consumed him subconsciously – the fear that he and Livvie wouldn't make it once they went public.

"You're both infatuated with this image you've created of one another," Mellie continued. "When you look at Olivia, you see yourself as the man you _**WANT**_ to be - young, virile, idealistic. And when she looks at you, she sees the man she wants to be with – rich, powerful, older.

_**"Olivia is not a gold digger! C'mon, Mel, you've got to do better than that!"**_ Fitz snorted.

"I'm not saying she's a gold digger but she's got serious Daddy issues," Mellie hissed. "Look at all the important, influential men in her life – you, Cyrus, that high-powered attorney ex boyfriend of hers – all of you 15 years or older than her. Just think about it. I know you're going to block out everything I'm saying because it's coming from me, but Fitz, you need to hear what I'm saying."

Fitz couldn't believe it, but Mellie's words were actually getting under his skin. A lot of what she was saying made sense and was completely on point.

"We worked 20 years to get here. _**Twenty freaking years!** _Why can't you appreciate what you already have and wait a few more years before rearranging your life?" Mellie asked, pleading.

"What are you saying, Mellie? That if I give you two full terms in the White House that you'll grant me a divorce at the end of it?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying. That's what I've been saying all along. You and Olivia can continue to have your affair, just not under my roof, but we stay married until the end of your second term, and then I give you the divorce, no strings attached," Mellie said. "No stupid, fake tell-all book. Only thing I'd want your help with is getting me elected to some public office, like the U.S. Senate."

Fitz looked at her skeptically.

"Just think of it. You'll be better able to help me get what I want and keep me out of your hair if you stay in office. Also, you'll get to have the best of both worlds – the woman you claim to love, plus you'll get to retain your presidency and preserve your legacy. Most importantly, you'll be able to spend time with your children, who adore you and look up to you, and not expose them to the scandal of a divorce and the pain of abandoning their mother while you're still in office."

Fitz was quiet. Mellie had laid out a buffet of food for thought. Although he didn't have any appetite to deal with any of it, there was no way of avoiding the issues Mellie had legitimately raised.

Frustrated, Fitz threw down his napkin on the dining room table and left in a huff. Mellie turned around and looked out the window that faced the White House's North Lawn and watched the sun rise. It was the dawn of a new day.

* * *

**A/N: _Mellie has planted quite a few seeds of doubt in Fitz's fertile brain. Will they take root and blossom or scatter in the wind? Post your predictions/opinions in a review._**

Mellie really knows how to pop Fitz's balloon. Guess 20 years of marriage gives you the inside track to knowing all of your spouse's hot buttons and insecurities.

For those keeping score, I'd say Fitz and Mellie are evenly matched and the game is currently tied at 2-2. Whatever advantage Fitz may have thought he had gotten over Mellie by embarrassing her by having sex with Olivia in the Executive Residence has evaporated in the light of day.

**_Thanks so much for all the encouragement in the form of reviews and PMs. They're always fun to read and great to get your feedback and suggestions/predictions._**

**_Later,  
_**

**_-Neo  
_**


	14. Calm before the storm

**A/N:** Reaction to the last chapter called "Doubt" was very strong. Many of you had a very strong negative reaction to it because you felt it made Fitz look like a weak, backsliding flip-flopper getting played by Mellie once again. A couple of you said the chapter hit a false note and felt out of character with the take no bullshit version of Fitz that had been previously developed in this story.

And you know what? You're right! :)

But haven't you ever been in a situation where you were feeling good and confident about some decision you had made only to have someone burst your bubble by saying one little thing to cause you to doubt yourself? I think this can happen to the best of us.

Even though Fitz is President of the United States, the one thing he's been painfully insecure about is how Olivia feels about him. She's already rejected him twice. Mellie played right into that insecurity and then pulled at his heart strings by mentioning the Grant kids. Olivia and Fitz have been reunited for less than a day. It makes sense that his brain would still be hardwired to worry that his plan to get a divorce may go up in smoke because of things outside of his control.

This chapter answers the question I posed in the previous chapter: _"Will the seeds of doubt take root and flourish or scatter in the wind?"_

As always, thanks very much for your PMs, reviews and comments. Your comments and observations keep my writing honest and remind me that if I screw up the character of Fitz you're going to come find me and beat me to a pulp! LOL!

* * *

**Chapter 13: The calm before the storm**

Fitz left the dining room with Mellie's words ringing in his ears.

_"It's not real, Fitz! It's going to shrivel up and die once it's exposed to the real world."_

Damn you, Mellie! Fitz thought. The day which had started with so much promise was already turning sour. He looked at his watch, it was almost 7 a.m. He wanted to call Olivia. He needed to hear her voice to reassure him that what happened between them last night wasn't a dream. God, it was so amazing being with her, touching her, inhaling her scent, holding her close, being inside her. Olivia's emotional confession of love followed by their heated marathon lovemaking session had been an incredible experience. The way Olivia completely and passionately gave herself to him last night with no reservations was better than he had ever imagined. A huge smile spread across Fitz's lips at the memory of it all.

As Fitz walked down the hall headed to the West Wing, he passed the official White House portrait of the First Lady hanging on the wall. He stopped and looked at it. He shook his head and then laughed. "Nice try, Mellie, but your mind games no longer work on me," he said out loud.

He still had a big grin on his face when Cyrus came walking down the hall headed to his office.

"Good morning, Mr. President," Cyrus said.

"Indeed it is, Cy," Fitz said, smiling broadly.

"Well aren't you in a good mood this morning, sir," Cyrus said, genuinely surprised. He couldn't remember the last time the POTUS had been this cheerful.

"Well, it is a good day, Cyrus. We live in the greatest country on Earth! We've got a lot to be thankful for Cy, you and I," Fitz said, strolling down the hallway with his Chief of Staff by his side.

"Mr. President, you seem to be particularly upbeat today," Cyrus said. "Did you have a good evening?"

Fitz stifled a laugh and fought valiantly to suppress an even wider smile. "Did I have a good evening, Cy? Uh, yeah, you could say that."

Cyrus looked up at the President with a puzzled look. Something was most definitely going on and he wanted to know what it was.

"Mr. President, is there something you would like to tell me?" Cyrus asked.

"Like what?" Fitz replied.

"I don't know. You tell me. You are uncharacteristically upbeat today."

"Cy, I'm the President of the United States, Commander in Chief and Leader of the Free World. To top it off, I'm also pretty damn good looking. Why shouldn't I be upbeat?" Fitz said with a sly grin.

The two men were now outside of Cyrus' office. Cyrus shook his head and turned to go inside. Once inside, Cyrus wondered out loud what on earth had possessed the POTUS. Yesterday he was crabby, cold and all about business, but today he was positively…_giddy!_ Did this change in personality have anything to do with Olivia's visit? No, it couldn't have. She looked awful when she barged into the security briefing yesterday and then Fitz had the Secret Service escort her out of the Oval Office. Cyrus, who was standing outside waiting for Fitz to summon him, Cam and Mac back in for the security meeting, was shocked when he saw Hal, the Secret Service agent, leading Olivia away.

When he returned to the Oval Office, Cyrus asked Fitz what was going on, but Fitz coldly dismissed him saying that _"Ms. Pope"_ was under the mistaken impression that she was still entitled to ask him for favors. Cyrus had never heard Fitz refer to Olivia as "Ms. Pope," so he knew that some major falling out had occurred.

"Whoa," Cyrus said under his breath. He didn't know how it was possible, but something obviously major had gone down between Fitz and Olivia. _But what could it be?_ The change in Fitz's mood within the past 24 hours was like the difference between night and day.

Cyrus needed to get the full scoop on what had happened, but who could he ask without drawing a lot of attention to himself? He'd start with Hal, the Secret Service agent who was on duty. Cyrus picked up the phone and dialed the extension for the Secret Service office on the White House premises.

"Agent Hal McKenzie, please. This is Cyrus Beene calling."

_(pause)_

"What? He called in sick? Is it serious?

_(pause)_ OK, thank you."

Cyrus hung up the phone. He absentmindedly tapped a pen against his hand while he thought. There was one other person he could ask, but doing so might open up a Pandora's box. "Got no other choice," Cyrus said under his breath, and dialed the extension for the First Lady's office.

The voicemail for Mellie's secretary picked up. Cyrus was about to leave a message for the First Lady asking her to call him, when Fitz just walked right in to his office without knocking.

"Oh, sorry, didn't realize you were on the phone," Fitz said.

Cyrus hung up without leaving a message. "No, it wasn't important. What can I help you with?"

"Cyrus there's something I need to ask you and I need you to be completely honest," Fitz said in a very serious tone.

"What is it?" Cyrus asked.

"A time is coming when you're going to have to choose sides and I need to know now which side you're going to be on," Fitz said.

"Choose sides? What exactly are you talking about? Does this have anything to do with that legislation that Sen. Barnes is sponsoring to..."

"Cy, I can't tell you anything more until you tell me where your loyalties lie," Fitz said, cutting Cyrus off in mid-sentence.

"Sir, of course, my loyalty is to you. But I don't understand. What is this about?"

"So, if I ask you to do something which goes against your political instincts, you'll do it?"

"Mr. President, please, speak plainly. What is this about?"

"Cyrus, I need to know right now. Are you with me or against me?"

"I'm with you! Of course! I'm your chief of staff. I'll stand by you and will fight whatever battle you need me to fight. Now tell me what the hell is going on!" Cyrus exclaimed, exasperated with Fitz's unwillingness to speak plainly.

"I need you to change the visitor logs from yesterday," the POTUS said.

_"What?"_

"I need you to change the time that Olivia left the White House yesterday."

"You had the Secret Service escort her out yesterday afternoon. Why would I need to change that? That doesn't make any sense?"

Fitz just looked at Cyrus.

"I don't get it. Olivia left yesterday around 4. Why would you need to change that?"

Fitz continued to look at Cyrus without saying anything. There was a long pause.

"I've asked Mellie for a divorce," Fitz finally said.

_**"You did WHAT?! When?!"**_

"You heard me, Cy. I've asked Mellie for a divorce."

"Oh my God, please don't tell me that Olivia spent the night here…" Cyrus said the truth finally dawning on him. "How is that possible? I saw Hal escort her out."

"I actually told Hal to take Olivia to the Executive Residence," Fitz said.

Cyrus groaned. "Jesus Christ! How could you be so reckless? So, what did you do? Have a sleepover here in the White House with Olivia? _Goddammit!_ Did Mellie catch the two of you last night?"

"Cy, you know how I feel about Olivia and you know how I feel about my marriage to Mellie. This isn't some schoolboy crush I'm experiencing. This divorce has been in the making for almost a decade. I'm finally ready to pull the trigger and get out."

"Did she put you up to this?" Cyrus said angrily.

"Olivia? Hell no! Cy, you know that Olivia would sooner cut off her arm before she'd ask me to sacrifice anything for her," Fitz said

"So, then, what happened? Why now?"

"Cy, do you love James?"

"Huh? What? Don't change the subject!"

"I'm not. My question is relevant. Do you love James?"

"Yes! Of course! What a stupid question!"

"A year ago you said you didn't want to adopt a baby and today look at you. Can you imagine your life now without James and your new son?"

Cyrus looked at the framed picture on his desk of his husband James holding their adopted baby Ethan. A slight smile curled his lips.

"Cy, all I want is a chance to be happy, to be with the woman I love. I almost lost her in Pakistan. You saw what I went through. I can't wait any longer to be with her. I don't want to wait. If I wait, I know I will definitely lose her forever and I can't let that happen. If I'm to be with her, it's gotta be now."

Cyrus let out a heavy sigh. "There's no changing your mind this time around, is there?"

"No, there isn't," Fitz replied firmly.

"So, what comes next? You plan to resign?"

"I'll announce that I won't seek reelection."

"And then what?"

"And then we go off and be normal people," Fitz said.

"Normal people? You can't be a "normal" person! This is madness!"

"Cy, there's a shit storm coming, the likes of which we've never seen before," Fitz said, thinking of how Mellie would react once she realized that her Jedi mind tricks had failed to work. "You're going to need to decide whose umbrella you want to be under when it arrives and I need you to make that decision now. Are you with me or against me?"

Cyrus let out a heavy sigh and then looked Fitz directly in the eye.

"I'm on your side."

* * *

_**A/N:** So, gladiators, what do you think? Still think Fitz is weak? Has he redeemed himself? Fitz has recruited Cyrus for Team Fitz, effectively blocking Mellie from drafting him. If Cyrus had spoken to Mellie before Fitz, this could've easily gone the other way. _

_Just so you know, I like the character of Cyrus and don't consider him an evil, clear-cut villain the way I view Mellie. He has actually been very well behaved in this story so far. LOL!_

_Thank you, as always, for following this story. **Your reviews are my tips, so please "tip" generously. :) Thanks!**_

_Until next time... _

_-Neo_


	15. Cold War

**Chapter 14: Cold War**

_"What's going on here?"_

Mellie walked into the master bedroom to find a crew of workmen dismantling the entire room.

"Mrs. Grant, hello." A short, thin, elegantly dressed man stepped forward. "My name is Jean Pierre Laurent, interior designer, but everyone calls me JP. Pleased to meet you," he said sticking out his hand to shake Mellie's.

"What are you doing? Who let you in here?" Mellie said coldly, ignoring the little man's outstretched hand.

"Oh, didn't the President tell you? He hired my firm to redecorate the Executive Residence, starting with the master bedroom," JP said.

_**"He did what?!**_ When? Nobody told me this!" Mellie shrieked.

"I'm terribly sorry, madame. My firm got a call from the White House asking us to take on this assignment and, of course, how could we refuse," JP said with a little head bow.

"Well, this is crazy! There's a strict protocol. This is a historic residence. You can't just come in here and start redecorating!" Mellie squawked.

"Well, madame, don't quote me on this, but I think the President wanted to do something nice for you," JP said in a hushed voice, as though he were sharing a secret. Mellie looked at him suspiciously. "The President said that something happened in this bedroom that upset you and that he wanted to erase the memory of it."

"He did?" Mellie said, the features of her face visibly softening.

"Yes, madame, he did," JP said with a polite smile. "So, now, if you will allow my team to get back to work stripping the room down, I would like to meet with you later to discuss fabric swatches and color schemes for the new room."

"Why that would be lovely," Mellie said in a sweet voice, her heart rising in her chest. "I'll have my assistant contact you to schedule an appointment."

Mellie stepped outside into the hallway and caught her breath. _Could it be? Had Fitz decided to give up on getting the divorce and stay married to her?_ Her heart actually skipped a beat. She couldn't believe it! It seemed as though her breakfast chat with Fitz earlier in the week had actually gotten through to him. She was so happy, she could hardly contain herself.

For the past few months, Fitz had been sleeping on the couch in the living room of the Executive Residence. But now with the master bedroom suite under renovation and with all that dust and the smell of fresh paint, they would have to sleep elsewhere, probably in the Lincoln Bedroom.

_Hmmm, I wonder if this means we'll start sleeping together again,_ she thought. Mellie licked her bottom lip in anticipation. Fitz was a very handsome man and, truth be told, she was physically attracted to him. _If he didn't annoy me so goddamn much, I would've been willing to have sex with him more frequently before that twit Olivia Pope had come along, _Mellie fumed_._

It had been ages since Mellie had actually seen Fitz naked, but she knew he was in the best shape of his life. And if Olivia's moans of pleasure that Mellie had overheard were any indication, it was clear that Fitz still knew how to take care of business in bed. _Oh my God, I need to get some new lingerie,_ Mellie thought. _Spanx will not do!_ She rushed back downstairs to the East Wing to her office to do some lingerie browsing online.

After Mellie left, JP turned around and said to one of the workmen, "So, how'd I do?"

Ryan Bishop, who was dressed in the standard white contractors overalls and was crouched down looking through a toolbox, stood up and said, "you did great!" Bishop then slipped JP a $100 bill through a handshake. "Now, if you'll let me and my guys get back to work, we'll be done in no time."

JP left the room. Once he was gone, Bishop began to bark out orders to his three-man crew.

"OK, guys, we're looking for a USB drive in this room. I think it's in the safe, but if it isn't, we have orders to tear up this room to find it. That includes ripping up the mattress, the carpet, the walk-in closet, etc. We're looking for anything and everything that might contain data, including a laptop computer. We're also looking for a manuscript, so keep your eyes peeled for that. Also, remember we're going to plant some listening devices in here as well once we install the new furniture and wallpaper. OK, let's get to work!"

* * *

**_Meanwhile, downstairs in the Oval Office_**

"….so, Bob, what do you have for me? Tell me something good," Fitz said, leaning back in his office chair, the phone cradled against his ear. He was on the phone with Bob Pearson, his divorce attorney. After Mellie had rejected the first divorce settlement offer, Fitz had given Pearson orders to uncover something, anything that could be used to put Mellie down.

_"Well, Mr. President, what I've uncovered is pretty explosive,"_ Pearson said. _If you release this info, it will destroy the First Lady's reputation and ruin any chances she has of ever seeking public office. It could also blow back on you, if you're not careful."_

"Blow back on me? How so?

_"Well, sir, you will be engaging in the politics of personal destruction and it will be hard to be viewed as a distinguished elder statesman if you destroy your wife…."_

**"EX-**wife," Fitz interrupted.

_"OK, fine, it will be hard to be viewed by the public as a distinguished elder statesman once you leave office if you drag your ex-wife's reputation through the mud,"_ Pearson finished.

"Well, Bob, that's the thing," Fitz replied. "I don't want to publicly destroy her. But I need to have something to hang over her head and keep her in check."

_"I know. But do you really want to go down this path?"_ Pearson asked. _"You're going to get your hands dirty."_

"Bob, remember the Cold War?" Fitz asked. "Both Russia and the U.S. were in a nuclear arms race. But guess what? Thanks to the policy of Mutual Assured Destruction, both sides knew that any attack upon the other would be devastating to themselves, thus restraining them from attacking the other. That's what this is. Mellie and I are engaged in a Cold War. She's got her nuclear weapon. I need mine. My intention is to never go public with it. But I need to have something to hang over her head to keep her in line. Understand?

_"Understood,"_ Pearson said.

"So, Bob, now tell me what you've got."

* * *

**A/N:** _Ooooo, so what kind of dirt do you think Bob Pearson has dug up on Mellie? Give me your guesses in a review. Who knows, you may inspire me to change the idea I already have in mind for Mellie. _

_And speaking of Mellie, she thinks she's on the road to Sexyville with Fitz? LOL!_

_OK, let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!_


	16. 911

**Chapter 15: 9-1-1  
**

_"911 come now."_

Olivia's heart stopped. It was a text message from Fitz. He never sent her text messages. Something major must have happened for him to text her like this in the middle of the workday. She immediately grabbed her handbag and headed to the elevator.

Abby saw Olivia blow past and came running out of the conference room. "Liv, where you off to?" she asked following Olivia. "Remember we've got that 2 o'clock with a new client, that bank CEO."

"Cancel it," Olivia stated bluntly, jabbing a finger at the elevator call button. "I've got an emergency. Don't know when I'll be back."

The elevator chimed, the door slid open and Olivia stepped inside. Once the doors closed, Olivia's heart raced as her mind ran through all the possible scenarios as to why Fitz would've texted her like this. What could've happened? It probably had something to do with Mellie and the divorce, but for the life of her, Olivia couldn't imagine what exactly it could be that would prompt Fitz to ask her to come to the White House right away.

Olivia arrived at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue in record time. When she got to the West Wing, Mrs. Hanley buzzed the presidential intercom. "Mr. President, Ms. Pope is here to see you," and then told Olivia to go right in to the Oval Office. When she entered, Fitz was nowhere to be found.

"Fitz?" Olivia called out. "Where are you?"

The adjoining door to his private study was open. "I'm in here," came the reply.

Olivia walked across the presidential seal of the Oval Office and crossed the threshold into the private study. "Fitz, what happened? I got your…" but before Olivia could finish her sentence, she found herself pinned against the back of the door and Fitz's lips came crashing down on hers. Olivia's body stiffened and she pulled away from him. "Fitz, you texted me 911. That it was an emergency."

"It is," he said in a low voice, looking down at her, his beautiful grey eyes filled with desire. He began kissing her again as his hands roamed under her jacket. Olivia pulled her lips away and said, "you summoned me to the White House in the middle of the work day for this?"

"Yes, and you're lucky I didn't send the Secret Service and a presidential motorcade to come get you," he said, nuzzling Olivia's ear.

"Fitz, you can't act like this," Olivia said trying hard not to get aroused by his kissing and touching.

"Act like what?" he said, his hands traveling south from the small of her back down to her butt. He gave it a light squeeze and then worked his way around to the front where he unzipped her pants and with a firm hand began to gently stroke her mound through her lace panty.

"Act like this," Olivia panted, her brain already getting fogged up and a moistness beginning to pool in her underwear.

Fitz brushed his lips along the column of her neck. A shiver of delight ran up Olivia's spine when his tongue lightly licked her ear lobe. _"This isn't an act,"_ he whispered in her ear and pushed his body against hers so she could feel his hard-on.

And with that, Olivia was in. All in. She kissed him back. Hard. Her hands fumbled to unbuckle his belt.

Fitz had her up on the desk so fast, that Olivia scarcely had time to react. He ripped off her panty and spread her legs out wide and went down on her, flicking his tongue over her moist, sticky folds. Olivia's body arched and she moaned as Fitz began to eat her out, licking and sucking her pussy as if it was a sweet Georgia peach.

She looked down to enjoy the sight of him feasting on the treasure between her thighs. She reached down to touch his curly hair. When Fitz felt her fingertips brush his scalp, it spurred him on and he buried his tongue deeper inside her. Olivia's hips bucked and he wrapped his arms around her thighs to keep her firmly in place as his tongue slavishly worshiped her sensitive bud.

Just as she was about to come, he stopped.

"Fitz, don't tease me," Olivia groaned.

"How bad do you want it?" he replied.

"You know I want it," she said.

"Do I?" he replied, looking down at her splayed out on the desk, wearing nothing but her bra. He wanted to fuck her senseless, but he wanted her to beg for it.

"Fitz, please, give it to me," she pleaded.

"I don't know, Olivia, I'm not sure you're really into this," Fitz said, placing his fully erect member at her slick entrance. With his hand he moved his dick up and down her moist folds. Olivia moaned as his extremely hard cock tapdanced at the entrance of her pussy. "I mean, you say that you want it, but do you really mean it?" he asked teasingly.

"Shut up and fuck me," Olivia said, sitting up on the desk and wrapping her legs around Fitz and then impaling herself on his wood. She gasped _"oh my god"_ as his rigid hardness penetrated her and his thickness filled her.

"_Shit, Liv,"_ Fitz said. _"Damn, you're tight."_ He lifted her up and cupping her butt he pistoned Olivia up and down his huge cock while standing up. Olivia wrapped her arms around his neck and held on for dear life.

She lost control, forgetting exactly where she was, and her shrieks of pleasure were becoming louder.

Fitz let out a groan as he placed her back on top of the desk, continuing to thrust inside her. As he buried his cock deep inside her, Olivia moaned loudly. Fitz let out a guttural grunt and clamped a hand over her mouth as he rhythmically pumped in and out of her soaking wet pussy. He loved the way she felt like a warm tight glove wrapped around his cock.

Olivia's breathing became very shallow as she inhaled and exhaled into the palm of his hand. She felt herself getting lightheaded. She twisted her face away so that his hand would fall away and when it did, Fitz made one last major thrust that unleashed her orgasm. The walls of her vagina convulsed and Fitz felt her pussy begin to tighten even further around his dick. He had planned to pull out to prolong their lovemaking session but when her vaginal muscles clamped down and gripped his cock it caused him to let out a strangled **_"AAAHHH! FUCK!"_** He kept pumping and coming, feeling as though it would never stop.

When Olivia's pussy had milked every last drop of cum out of his essence, Fitz collapsed on top of her. The room was totally quiet now except for their heavy breathing. A few moments later Fitz slid down into the chair behind the desk while Olivia remained spread out on top of the desk, totally spent.

"We can't do this anymore," Fitz finally said, placing his hand on her thigh.

Olivia who was still enjoying the sex afterglow, sat up with a jolt. "Huh?"

"I can't do this any more," Fitz repeated, looking at her. "You're right. I shouldn't be acting like this, here in the White House, with you."

Olivia's stomach lurched. _What was Fitz saying?_ She scrambled to get off the desk. She frantically looked around for her underwear. She was naked in the private study of the President of the United States. _I knew this was a bad idea! I knew it! Knew it! Where is my goddamn underwear?!_ Olivia's inner voice screamed. She wanted to get out of there.

"Hey, hey, slow down," Fitz said, grabbing her arm. "Listen to me."

Olivia looked up at him, tears filling her eyes. "Let go of me! You got want you wanted, now let me go!" she cried.

"Livvie, hey, slow down, calm down, baby," Fitz said, pulling her close. "If you'd just let me finish…"

"No, I get it! We are finished! You don't have to say another word. I get it! You changed your mind. OK, fine! I've got to get back to work," Olivia said, rambling. She scrambled away from him and ran over to the door where her clothes were lying in a heap. Fitz had destroyed her panty when he ripped it off her body, so she balled it up and threw it into her purse. She bent over to pick up and pull on her pants. When she stood up, she felt Fitz behind her. He was putting something around her neck. Olivia was still just wearing only her bra on top. She looked down and saw a necklace with two keys on it.

"What's this?" she said quietly.

He turned her around so that she was facing him. "This," he said, holding the rose gold key with a brilliant diamond at the center, "is to replace the Tiffany key pendant I gave you after the election when we were together at the ranch in Santa Barbara." Olivia looked up at him, her bottom lip quivering. She loved that pendant and it was taken from her while she was in captivity in Pakistan. "And this," Fitz continued, holding up the second key, "is the key to Blair House."

Olivia gasped. "Fitz…"

"I know this isn't perfect, but Blair House is right across the street from the White House and the Secret Service has it locked down tight, so security isn't an issue."

"So, you're saying…" Olivia began, excited.

"So, what I was trying to say earlier in my own very clumsy way is that we need to have our own place away from the White House. I want to be able to see you in the evenings. I want to come home to you," Fitz said, gently caressing her cheek. "I'm going to move into Blair House and this is your key. I don't expect you to move in with me, of course, but I'm hoping you'll at least leave a toothbrush and come by a couple nights a week until I'm out of office and then we can decide where we're really going to live."

Olivia smiled brightly and wrapped her arms around his waist and looked up at him. "So, you're not breaking up with me?"

"No, you silly rabbit! I started off trying to pull your leg when I said I couldn't do this anymore thinking you'd know that I was joking, but you didn't realize I was kidding," he said, chuckling.

Olivia lightly punched him in the arm. "We just had mind blowing sex and then you drop the _'I can't do this anymore'_ line on me. What else was I supposed to think?"

"You were supposed to think" _(his lips lightly brush hers)_ "that you just had mind blowing sex _(soft kiss)_ "with a man _(kiss, kiss)_ "who is madly in love with you" _(slow, open mouth kiss)_ "and will do anything to be with you," he whispered in her ear before heading down to nibble and nuzzle her neck.

"Fitz, I love you," Olivia said, feeling herself getting aroused once again.

_"I love you too."_

* * *

**A/N:** Wow, **Fitz is a man on fire!** Seems like he's making up for lost time, doesn't it?

OK, so a little background info. Blair House is a real place. It's the presidential guest house located across Pennsylvania Avenue from the White House. In real life it's the place where heads of state and super VIPs stay when they come to visit the POTUS, but I think it would make a perfect and convenient love nest for Pres. Grant and his Livvie.

For those of you who haven't followed this story from the very beginning and were confused by the reference to the key pendant, check out my other story "An Ounce of Truth for Every Treason," where this was originally mentioned. Look for chapters 13 and 15 (Under Lock & Key, The Shadow of Death).

**As always, thanks a ton for the PMs and the reviews.** Keep them coming! I don't have the next chapter written yet, but will try to do a sneak peek preview for everyone who leaves a review.

_Until next time,_

-Neo


	17. The Truth Won't Set You Free

**A/N:** Sorry for taking so long to post this update. After the last chapter, I was like Liv after an intense marathon session with Fitz - I needed some rest & relaxation. :)

Your reviews for the last chapter were awesome! Here's the highlight reel:

From **WriteLolaWrite**: _**You got me TWICE. I'm frantically skipping through words trying to end the suspense. This chapter is off the mother loving hook.**_

From **mschessplayer**: _**can someone put a water hose & a silencer on the** **white house love bunnies**?_

From **inspiredtoread**: _**to that sexy motherfucker you've created, FITZ!** **My gawd this man, this version of this man, is hot as hades!**_

From **Queenpeach**: _**Now peaches have a whole different meaning**.**..LOL…Can't wait for mellie reaction. I still can't wait for her Skittles to be popped...**_

From** juicyj28**: **_Give me "a minute" to wrap my head around all this SEXUAL GOODNESS_**

From **Guest**: **_I'm suddenly very thirsty :)))_**

From **limepalmtree**: _**Fitz and Liv have my throat dry. This man is sexy as hell**. **Georgia peaches are the best :) I think I am going back for seconds.**_

_**Thanks, everyone!**  
_

In this chapter, we finally find out what's the dirt Fitz has dug up on Mellie. Enjoy!_  
_

* * *

**_"If, in this case, the truth won't set you free - then lie."_**  
From The Bonfire of the Vanities by Tom Wolfe

**Chapter 16: The Truth Won't Set You Free**

_What the hell?_

Fitz woke up with a start. He had fallen asleep on the couch in the Oval Office and woke up suddenly when he felt an oppressive weight pressing down on his chest. He opened one eye, afraid to look down, and saw Mellie had wormed her way next to him on the couch and had her head on his chest.

"Mellie! What the…?!"

"Oh, Fitz, you're awake," Mellie said sweetly, her mouth puckering upward in the vain hope that he'd give her a kiss.

Fitz scrambled to get off the couch and got up so quickly that Mellie rolled off him and landed with a thud on the floor.

"Mellie, what the hell are you doing here?!" Fitz exclaimed. He looked at his watch. It was a little after 10 p.m.

"Well, with the master bedroom under renovation, I thought we would sleep in the Lincoln Bedroom, but when you didn't come upstairs, I came down here to find you," she said standing up. "And here you were, already fast asleep, my sweet."

That's when Fitz noticed that Mellie was wearing a white trench coat, a lot like the one Olivia wore. But Mellie was wearing nothing under it except for a red lace bra and panty.

"Mellie! What on earth has gotten into you?!" Fitz said aghast.

"C'mon, Fitzie, don't play games. You know…_the master bedroom renovation_. JP told me what you said," Mellie said in husky, sexy whisper.

"JP? Who the hell is JP?"

"Jean Pierre Laurent, the interior designer you hired to redecorate the Executive Residence,"

"An interior designer? What?! Mellie, I don't know who the…" Fitz started to say and then he remembered he had given Ryan Bishop orders to tear up that room. "_OH, YES, JP!_ Great guy, isn't he?" Fitz said taking a step back. "Look, Mellie, I've still got some work to do. Gotta prep for an early morning conference call with Putin. Burning the midnight oil and all. I'll be up later. You go on ahead. Don't wait up."

Mellie gave him a puzzled look. "Are you sure? It's no problem for me to wait up, you know?" she said allowing the trench coat to fall wide open so that Fitz could get a full view of her feminine wares. Mellie coyly twisted a strand of hair around her finger and ran her tongue across her top lip. She was trying hard, real hard, to play the coquette.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure," Fitz said patting her on the shoulder like she was a guy. "Go on. I'll see you later." He gave her a peck on the cheek to keep the peace. Mellie smiled and left.

**_Aaaaargh!_** Fitz wanted to scream. Jesus H. Christ. When would it end?! He needed Bishop to find that document and he needed him to have found it like yesterday! What the hell, Fitz knew he was moving forward regardless of whether or not Bishop found that USB drive. The real ammunition he needed to bring Mellie down was in a folder in California in Bob Pearson's office. Fitz looked at his watch. It was only a little after 7 p.m. on the West Coast. He went to his desk, picked up the phone and punched in Pearson's number.

* * *

_**Friday, the next morning**_

"Hey, I waited up and you never showed," Mellie said, walking into the dining room. Fitz was already there eating breakfast.

"Yeah, Mellie, I was thinking, we should go to Camp David this weekend," Fitz said, completely ignoring Mellie's opening statement.

"Really?" she said brightly.

"Yeah, really. I think we need to get out of D.C.," he said.

"Sure, honey, whatever you want," Mellie said sweetly, pouring herself a glass of juice. Fitz rolled his eyes. It was sapping his energy trying to pretend that things had returned to normal with Mellie. Yes, he was buying himself time because Mellie was so volatile, but this farce needed to end. He got up and left the table.

"Leaving already?" Mellie asked.

"Yeah, gotta get ready for that call with Angela Merkel," Fitz said.

"Last night I thought you said it was with Vladimir Putin?" Mellie said, her voice trailing behind him.

"Yeah, Putin, Merkel, whatever," Fitz said, the door slamming behind him.

Once Fitz entered his office, he called Olivia. It was a little before 8 a.m. and he knew she'd probably already be awake, getting ready for work.

_"Hello,"_ Olivia answered the phone drowsily.

"Hey, babe. Did I wake you up?" Fitz asked.

"Yeah, but that's OK. What time is it?"

"Almost 8."

"I almost overslept then. Good thing you called," Olivia said yawning.

"Did I tell you how much I enjoyed your visit to the White House yesterday?" Fitz said, his voice dropping an octave. "It was quite…invigorating."

"Ha! Fitz, you've worn me out the last two times we've been together. I think I need to hire a personal trainer to get back in shape," Olivia said, rolling over in the bed.

"Livvie, I love your shape. You're like a tiny action figure with very bendable limbs. Don't you dare do anything to change it," Fitz said, chuckling.

"Don't worry, I won't," she replied. "So, when are you going to move over to Blair House?"

"I plan to do it on Sunday. Tomorrow I'm getting Mellie to sign the divorce papers and then I'm out of here," Fitz said.

"Confident, much?"

"To quote the classic words of Olivia Pope, 'It's handled,'" Fitz said.

Olivia laughed. "Ah, good one. Well, you know, if there's anything I can do…"

Fitz interrupted her. "No way. I don't want you getting your hands dirty on this one. I'll fight my own war without your help this time."

"OK, your choice," Olivia said, yawning. "I am curious though. You've kept this whole divorce thing way under wraps. How can you be so sure that Mellie is going to go off quietly into that good night."

"Liv, seriously, I don't want to burden you with this," Fitz said. "You don't want to know. It's better this way. Trust me."

"Fitz…" Olivia said, sitting up in the bed, "you're not doing anything illegal to get Mellie to sign those papers?"

"Illegal? No, of course not! But I seriously don't want this baggage to carry over into our relationship," Fitz said. "I'm trying to make a fresh start with you and that means there are certain things I don't want you to know about."

"Well, Fitz, I'm not sure I'm OK with you keeping secrets from me," Olivia said concerned. "If we're going to be together as a real couple, you've got to be willing to be completely open and honest with me."

"Yes, and the same goes for you," Fitz said. "For example, I never asked you what the deal was with that Ariel Eisenstadt guy. I know that you were spending some "quality" time with him in recent months."

"What?! Were you spying on me?!" Olivia exclaimed.

"Not spying, just keeping an eye on you and making sure you were safe," Fitz said gently. "Look, the point is is that I trust you. I haven't asked you about Ariel because I trust you. I know you. I know that if there were something there, you would've mentioned him or dropped hints, but you haven't, so I'm not going to hammer you for any details."

Olivia was quiet and relieved. It wasn't that she had had any serious romantic feelings for Ariel, because she didn't. Well, at least, not anymore. She was glad that she didn't have to explain or talk about whatever attraction it was that she had felt for him.

"So, when it comes to Mellie, I need you to trust me," Fitz continued. "Trust that I've got this handled and that I'm taking care of the situation with her in such a way that she won't be a problem for us in the future."

* * *

**_Next day, Saturday. Camp David_**

When the First Family arrived at Camp David, a visitor was waiting for them in the living room. Bob Pearson stood up as soon as he heard Fitz, Mellie and the Grant children enter the foyer. _"So, like I was saying on the way up here, we should really invite Sen. Barnes and his wife over to the White House for a…."_ Mellie stopped mid-sentence, astonished to see the Grant family attorney at Camp David. Her stomach immediately clenched but she maintained her composure.

"Bob, oh my goodness! What a surprise! What on earth are you doing here?" Mellie asked in her best First Lady voice.

Pearson exchanged a look with Fitz and then looked back at Mellie. "Mellie. Good to see you."

Fitz turned to the Grant children and said, "Hey, kids, why don't you run along to your rooms and relax. Your Mom and I need to talk to Mr. Pearson privately. We'll call you when lunch is ready, OK?"

Karen and Gerry went off, leaving the three adults alone in the room staring at one another.

"Let's talk in my study," Fitz said.

The three made their way to the small library off of the family room. As soon as the door closed, Mellie said, "What the hell is this Fitz? An ambush?"

"Mellie, the time has come for us to finalize this divorce, and Bob is here to review my terms with you," Fitz said calmly.

"What?! I don't understand! I thought you had given up on this stupid idea of getting a divorce!" Mellie exclaimed.

"Mellie, I've been clear from the outset that I was serious about this. The fact that we haven't argued about this recently shouldn't have been interpreted as a sign that I had changed my mind," Fitz replied.

"Well, Fitz, let me remind you that if you insist on pursuing this divorce I'm going to make your life a living hell," Mellie spat out.

Bob Pearson finally spoke up. "Now, Mellie, you and the President are both rational adults. Let's not let tempers flare. I've drafted a new proposal for you to consider."

He took out a manila folder and handed it to her. Mellie opened it, quickly scanned it and threw her head back and laughed.

"You've got to be kidding me! This offer is half of what you offered me originally!" Mellie laughed and threw the sheet of paper on the desk.

"Well, Mellie, that's how this is going to work," Fitz said, looking at her coldly. "The longer you drag this divorce out, the less I'm willing to give you. What you see written on that paper is my final offer. Take it or leave it."

"Oh really? Well, I guess I'll just take my tell-all book to Simon & Schuster and live off of the seven-figure advance I'm sure they'll be more than happy to pay me," Mellie said spitefully.

"You know what, Mellie, you go right ahead. In fact, Bob has been doing a little research that I think will catapult your tell-all book to an epic bestseller status," Fitz said looking over at Pearson who took out another folder and handed it to him. Fitz slid it across the desk to Mellie.

"What the hell is this?" Mellie said angrily opening the folder up. She quickly flipped through the pages inside and then her eyes became wide as saucers. _"Son of a bitch! Where the hell did you get this?!"_

"That is a sworn affidavit from a woman named Lynn Whitcombe attesting to a 10-month lesbian relationship with you while you were a first-year law student at Harvard," Fitz said, reaching across to point at the document.

"You bastard! It lasted only a semester and it meant nothing! Fitz, you know I'm not a lesbian!" Mellie screamed.

"Do I? You've been remarkably frigid for most of our marriage. It's a wonder we were able to even conceive two children," he said, his voice dripping in sarcasm. "Once the public knows of your past history, they'll understand why I had to seek comfort in the arms of another woman and they won't feel sorry for you. They'll feel sorry for me."

Mellie was pissed. "This is ridiculous! No one will believe this! The public knows me as a loving and devoted mother and wife."

"Yeah, right, Mellie. Keep telling yourself that. So loving and devoted that we had to hire Olivia to teach us how to fake being a couple in public and that you had to lie about having a miscarriage in order to lock up the women's vote."

Bob Pearson's eyebrows arched up. He recalled that whole miscarriage confession during the 2008 presidential campaign and had felt sorry for Mellie back then. Now he was hearing she made up the whole thing. _Wow, this woman was a true piece of work,_ he thought.

Fitz continued. "How do you think the Republican Christian Conservative base will react if you try to run for the U.S. Senate once the world knows you're a self-loathing closet lesbian."

Mellie jumped up and slapped Fitz in the face. "It's a lie! A damn, filthy lie! No one will ever believe this!"

"Mellie you better than anyone else know that perception equals reality. If people catch even a whiff of a rumor that you might be a lesbian and you try to run for office as a Republican, it's going to stick and follow you everywhere. There will be no escaping it," Fitz said.

Mellie collapsed in a chair and began to sob. For a brief moment Fitz felt bad. He was truly sorry it had come to this but he had to do this. It was the only way.

He walked over to Mellie and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Sign the divorce papers and none of this info will ever see the light of day," he said softly.

"And what about the kids? Who gets custody?" Mellie asked.

"Joint custody. Bob here will work up a separate agreement about that."

Several moments passed before Mellie finally responded. "And if I don't sign the papers? Then what?" She was determined to fight until her last breath.

"If you don't sign, you'll wind up with nothing. No alimony, no child support. Nothing. I will file for full custody and build a case that you are an unfit mother. It will be an ugly, messy, protracted fight to the death, and our children will hate both of us when it is all said and done. Is that the future you want for yourself and our kids, Mellie?"

Mellie covered her face with her hands and shook her head. Her marriage to Fitz was over. It was time to stop fighting and let nature take its course. But she still felt it was so unfair. Everything was so unfair.

"OK, I'll sign," she finally mumbled.

"What was that? Speak up," Fitz said.

"I said I'll sign. Bob, please set up a meeting next week with Ruth Dunbar at Dunbar Swain & Gardner. I'll hire her to represent me."

Fitz could see the wheels churning in Mellie's brain. He knew she was looking for some loophole, some contingency, something to put a wrench in his plans. But before Mellie could say anything else, Fitz spoke.

"And Mellie, if I get any indication whatsoever that you're backing out of this divorce or if you try to cause me any problems after this divorce is final, Bob will make a $250,000 donation in your name to GLAAD [_Gay & Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation_]," Fitz said. "That donation will make the news and you'll have to spend a lot of time answering or dodging questions about your sexuality in light of all the rumors that will be swirling around about you by then. Here's the wire transfer form already filled out and ready to go the day you step out of line," Fitz said, showing her the bank document inside the manila folder she was holding.

Mellie just looked up at him weakly. The fight had gone out of her. She was done.

* * *

**A/N:** _That showdown with Mellie was rough. Fitz wasn't playing. He had Bob Pearson pull out all the stops. What did you think of the reveal that Mellie went through a lesbian phase when she was younger? Did Fitz fight dirty? So, do you think it will be smooth sailing for him and Liv now that Mellie is out of the picture? **Post your predictions in a review.**_

_**Thanks for reading!**  
_

_-Neo  
_


	18. Youtopia

**Chapter 17: Youtopia**

Olivia arrived at Blair House a little before 6 p.m. When she spoke to Fitz earlier that day, he said he had a conference call with the prime minister of Israel and that he probably was going to be home after 7. Olivia decided she'd get there early, but when she arrived at the house, two Secret Service agents were standing outside.

"Good evening, Ms. Pope," said one agent who she had never seen before. "You can go on right ahead." Olivia immediately got nervous. She nodded her head and climbed the short staircase to the front door. Just as she put her hand on the doorknob, the door swung open.

"Hello, Ms. Pope." It was Hal, Fitz's regular Secret Service agent. "Welcome to Blair House."

Olivia stepped inside. Despite the fact that Blair House was located across from the White House, she had never been inside. The house is the official presidential guest house. It's named after its original owner, Francis Preston Blair, who was a trusted friend and confidant of Abraham Lincoln. Lincoln used to stroll cross the street from the White House to go spend time with Blair at his house. In fact, it was kind of ironic that Olivia would now find herself in Blair House because in a lot of ways Blair was Lincoln's unofficial fixer advising Lincoln on numerous serious matters.

The fact that Hal was there meant that Fitz was already there. Olivia looked around. "Where's the President?" she asked politely.

"In the kitchen," Hal said. "Come with me."

As they walked through the foyer, down the hallway, Olivia got a passing glance at some of the first-floor rooms. The style was formal and ornate, like a museum. As they got closer to the kitchen, the smell of delicious cooking greeted their arrival.

"_Mmmmm,_ that smells delicious!" Olivia said walking into the huge kitchen. "What are you cooking?" Fitz, who was standing at the counter, turned around and gave Olivia the widest of smiles. "**Livvie!"** he exclaimed and then he rushed over and picked her up and twirled her around. He was like a little kid, so excited to see her. Olivia laughed and said, "Alright, ok, good to see you too. Now put me down."

When he did, he leaned over, gave her a kiss and then said, "welcome to my new house. I'll give you a tour later."

"You got here early. I thought you had a call with the Israeli prime minister," Olivia said, putting her handbag on the counter.

"Yeah, that got rescheduled for tomorrow, so I decided to leave work early and get dinner started before you arrived."

Olivia smiled at the idea of the Leader of the Free world rushing home so that he could have a meal ready and waiting for her.

"So, what's for dinner?" she asked, trying to get a peek at the stove.

"Spaghetti carbonara," Fitz replied, pouring her a glass of wine.

"I can't believe you're cooking," Olivia said, taking the filled wine glass from Fitz's outstretched hand. "I mean do you even know how to boil water?"

"I'll have you know that I am a master chef," Fitz said, taking a kitchen towel and snapping Olivia in the backside with it.

"Oh really?" she giggled.

"Really," he said wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her in close for a kiss. When their lips parted, Olivia sat down on a nearby stool and Fitz went back to cooking.

"Wow, it smells incredible," Olivia said. "What's in it?"

"Olive oil, garlic, onion, parmesan cheese, and the secret ingredient…Italian _pancetta_," Fitz said, twirling some spaghetti on a fork and feeding it to Liv.

"_Mmmmm_," she moaned in delight as the succulent creamy pasta melted on her tongue. "This is **really** delicious!"

Fitz, pleased by her reaction, served her another forkful of the tasty pasta. This time, a string of spaghetti didn't make it completely into her mouth and plopped out. Olivia's tongue darted out to pull the wayward strand inside her mouth. Fitz, who was completely focused on her delectable mouth, couldn't resist and he leaned over and lifted the end of the strand to his mouth and slowly sucked until his lips met Liv's. Her lips parted, allowing Fitz to taste her, as his tongue slid inside.

Olivia broke away from the kiss first. "I'm hungry," she said.

"Me too," Fitz said, kissing her again while his nimble fingers began to pull her shirt up out of her pants.

"No, seriously. I'm really hungry," Olivia said, pulling away slightly. "Trust me, you don't want to be around me when I'm starving."

"Oh no?"

"No, you don't. I turn into the Incredible Hulk when I'm starving. Seriously. It's like my blood sugar drops and I get very crabby and bite people's heads off when I haven't had anything to eat for hours."

"Hmm, so does that also mean that you pop out of your clothes when you're in this state," Fitz said, teasing, his hands beginning to roam up her shirt. "I think I would find you very appealing in your Hulk state."

"Fitz, I'm serious! I need to eat! Let's eat!" Olivia exclaimed, lightly punching him in the chest. "Eat first, playtime later!"

The truth was Olivia knew she'd pass out if she didn't get some food in her belly and fast. She didn't like to drink alcohol on an empty stomach and it wouldn't take long before she was tipsy.

Dinner was nice. She and Fitz talked about everything and nothing. It was all so blessedly…_normal_. She desperately wanted to ask him how the weekend at Camp David had gone with Mellie and the kids, but she held back. They were having such a nice, relaxed evening together, Olivia didn't want to bring up anything that might ruin the vibe. Besides, if things hadn't gone according to plan, Fitz wouldn't be sitting here in front of her right now, she thought.

After dinner, Fitz gave her a brief tour of Blair House. The place was huge, the hour was late, and neither one of them really had any interest in doing a full tour. Also, Olivia wasn't feeling totally comfortable with this new phase of their relationship. It wasn't public knowledge yet that Fitz and Mellie were getting divorced, and Olivia was still very anxious and nervous about the future. In fact, she and Fitz still hadn't talked about what came next.

"Fitz, you haven't said anything at all about how things went at Camp David." She and Fitz were in the Lincoln room, a cozy parlor with a fireplace.

"Well, Mellie agreed to sign the divorce papers. My attorney is meeting with her attorney this week to finalize everything," Fitz said.

"Oh, I thought you were going to get her to actually sign the papers this weekend," Olivia said.

"Liv, it's as good as done," Fitz said, holding and stroking her hand. "If you knew what it took for me to get Mel to this point, you'd be congratulating me."

"And the kids? How did they take the news that you and Mellie are divorcing?"

"Not good. Look, Liv, do we have to talk about this now?" Fitz said, eager to change the subject.

"Well, no, but there are some things we should talk about soon and now seems like as good a time as any," Olivia said.

"Like what?"

"Like when do you plan to tell the American people that you're divorced and that you don't plan to run for re-election," she said.

"Yeah, Liv, about that…." Fitz's voice trailed off.

_Oh boy, here it comes,_ Olivia thought.

"I don't know," he said. "I've been so focused on getting Mellie to agree to the divorce, I haven't thought about when exactly I'd make the announcement. Liv, you and I have just gotten back together. The world will find out soon enough that the President of the United States is divorced. But in the meantime, I want to keep us private. I want us to live in a little utopia, even if it's just for a short while," he said, taking his index finger and playfully touching the tip of her nose. "Once we go public, we're not going to have any privacy."

"You mean, once _**you**_ go public there will be no turning back, right?" Olivia asked.

"Yeah, but I'm not interested in turning back. That's not the problem."

"Oh, _so now there's a problem?"_ Olivia asked sarcastically.

"Liv, what's with the attitude all of a sudden?" Fitz asked, genuinely concerned by the change in tone that the conversation was taking. If he didn't know better, he'd say they were on their way to having an argument and he didn't want that to happen. Not now.

Olivia let out a heavy sigh, stood up and walked over to the window. Fitz came over and stood behind her, wrapping his arms lightly around her waist. They looked out the window across the street at the White House. It felt odd to see the White House from this perspective, from the outside looking in. "Are you sure you're ready to give all this up?" Olivia wondered aloud. She didn't realize she had actually said out loud what she was thinking until she heard Fitz answer, "yes, I'm sure."

Fitz turned Olivia around so that she was facing him. He gently tilted her head up and looked directly into her eyes. "Yes, I'm sure," he repeated. "I've never been so sure of anything in my entire life. Now, do you want to tell me what's really bothering you?"

Olivia wondered if Fitz fully grasped what she was going through. She was an intensely private person. Once their relationship went public, that would be the end of her privacy. She'd be heavily scrutinized and analyzed. As a politician, Fitz was used to that. It came with the territory. But for Olivia, all of this was going to be new, challenging and frightening, living under a microscope.

Fitz could feel her body tensing up and he began to soothingly rub her back. "Liv, tell me what's bothering you."

"I can't…I can't say what exactly it is, it's just…" her voice trailed off. "You, this, us…it's just all too much for me to process right now. I feel overwhelmed."

"It's OK," Fitz said, stroking her cheek. "Let's not think about the past or the future. Let's just be here now, together, in the present, OK?"

Olivia nodded and Fitz gave her kiss. "It's been a long day for both of us. Let's go to bed."

"Uh, Fitz, about that," Olivia stammered. "I'm not going to sleep over tonight."

"Huh? Why not?" Fitz asked, genuinely surprised. He looked at her face and could see that despite his attempts to reassure her, she was still anxious and nervous. He could tell she was still struggling with this all this change. He wasn't going to force the issue.

"OK, Liv, let me call a car for you," he said, walking over to the phone. But Olivia stopped him and said, "no, don't do that. I've got my car. I'm fine getting home on my own."

"As you wish, my lady," Fitz said with a sad smile. He was very disappointed that Olivia was leaving and that he'd be spending his first night in Blair House alone.

He walked her downstairs, helped her on with her coat and then gave her a kiss on the forehead. Hal was standing by the front door. It was so silly, but Olivia felt self-conscious in front of Hal and said "Goodnight, Mr. President."

"Goodnight, Olivia."

As Olivia stepped outside, the chilly night air nipped at her cheeks and she pulled her coat tight around her body. Her dream of being with Fitz was becoming a reality and yet she felt weird. She shook her head wondering why on earth couldn't she be happy. Why did she always have to look for a downside, a loophole, an escape route? She was deep in her own thoughts as she walked down the sidewalk headed to where her car was parked around the corner.

A tall, young man walked right past Olivia not noticing her at all. Instead, his attention was drawn to the sight of two Secret Service agents stationed right outside the main entrance to Blair House. He was a journalist for the D.C. Tattler news website, and it was his business to know what was going on in Washington, especially when it involved powerful people. _Why would the Secret Service be stationed outside of Blair House on a Monday night? Who was in town visiting the White House?_ Gideon Wallace didn't know, but he was going to find out.

* * *

**A/N: **So the first night in the Blair House love nest didn't go exactly as Fitz had planned. He was very disappointed. He wants to live in a utopia, at least for a little while, where it's just him and Olivia. But Olivia is still putting up roadblocks. All this change is just way too much for her to handle. Now that she's on the verge of getting to be with the only man she's ever wanted, her old self pops up saying, _hold up, wait, this is too good to be true_. _**Is it possible that Olivia makes a great mistress but a horrible girlfriend? Will Olivia be able to handle the public scrutiny she'll be under once the press knows about her relationship with Fitz?**_

What did you think of the appearance of Gideon Wallace? We know Gideon isn't going to rest until he has a story. Looks like Fitz and Liv may be forced to go public sooner than they'd like. What do you think? **_Post your predictions and opinions in a review._**

**_Thanks for reading!_**

**_-Neo_**


	19. A Chip off the Old Block

**A/N:** _Olivia lost major brownie points in the last chapter when her wishy-washy nature came up again. I know it's frustrating to see her act like that but you've got to realize that Olivia is a control freak. She's used to micromanaging and being in control. This situation with Fitz is putting her way out of her comfort zone. I'm thinking about doing a chapter devoted to Olivia explaining her behavior, so maybe that will be the next update. In any case, **this chapter is all about Fitz, since I live, eat, breathe Fitzgerald Thomas Grant. :) Enjoy!  
**_

* * *

**Chapter 18: A Chip off the Old Block**

"Mr. President, the press is beginning to ask questions about Blair House and who's staying there," said Cyrus.

"And…"

"Well, sir, what should the press secretary tell them?"

"The truth."

"The truth, sir? And what would that be?"

"That the Executive Residence is undergoing a renovation and that the President has temporarily moved to Blair House as a result," Fitz replied. "It wouldn't be the first time that a sitting president stayed at Blair House during a White House renovation. Truman did it back in the '50s."

"Yes, sir. And if they ask questions as to why it's only the President staying there and not the First Lady, what should we say then?"

"That the First Lady prefers to stay in the White House and is staying in the Lincoln bedroom," Fitz said slightly exasperated. "Cyrus, are you seriously asking me these questions? Do I have to hold your hand and walk you through this? You're an old pro. You know how to spin the media!"

"Well, sir, to be honest, you haven't told me anything other than that you've filed for divorce. If you were keeping me in the loop about what your exact plans are, I wouldn't have to guess," Cyrus said. "I don't want to say or do anything that may contradict or negatively impact whatever it is you're planning on doing."

"Well, Cyrus, this whole situation is complex and is a moving target. I don't have time to give you hourly updates," Fitz said annoyed. "You're on a need to know basis. So when you need to know something, I'll tell you."

Cyrus raised an eyebrow. Ol' cranky, crabby, moody POTUS was back. He only got this way when it involved a woman, in other words, Olivia. _Oh lord_, Cyrus thought. _That didn't take long._ Cyrus rolled his eyes and left the Oval Office.

* * *

Fitz grew up in the shadow of a mighty oak of a man whose name was Fitzgerald Thomas Grant Jr. JR, as he was commonly called, was a great big bear of a man, who stood about 6'5" tall and weighed almost 300 pounds. He had made his first fortune in oil, Texas crude to be exact, and besides money, had always had a thirst for power. When the oil crisis hit in the 1970s, he moved to California and got into real estate development. His timing couldn't have been better as suburban real estate development exploded in the state over the coming decades.

At one point early in his career JR considered running for public office but decided against it because he didn't have the patience or the appetite to deal with the nitty gritty legislative details. Besides, he liked to pull strings from behind the scenes, away from public view, and being accountable to no one but himself. No, he would never be a senator, governor or president, but he would build one in his own image.

And so on May 20, 1962, the day his son was born, he named him Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III. As he held the newborn babe in his arms, he whispered in the tiny infant's ear that one day he would be grow up to be president of the United States. And so it was decided.

Growing up, Fitz knew that he was destined for great things. His father drilled that message into him from birth. So whenever Fitz wanted to do something that deviated from his father's grand plan, JR always found a sneaky way to dislodge it, dismantle it or discourage it and make it seem as though it was Fitz's decision all along.

For example, when Fitz was 12 he wanted to go on a week-long camping trip with some boys from school. The trip happened to be scheduled during the same week that JR planned for him to go to a military boot camp for young boys to build his "mental fiber." Fitz really wanted to go camping but he wanted his father's approval. So he asked his dad, not knowing any better, which activity should he do – camping or military boot camp.

JR was clever and Fitz's twelve-year-old brain was no match for his father's cunning personality. JR appeared to put the ball back into Fitz's court by simply saying, "Well, son, I don't know which activity you should do. Let's just say I'd hope you'd make the right decision and do the right thing."

And with that, Fitz would always do what his father wanted. The phrase, "I'd hope you'd make the right decision and do the right thing," became JR code for "I expect you to do what I'd want you to do."

JR used that same phrase years later when Fitz vacillated about whether or not to join the Navy and again when he was on the fence about marrying Mellie and again when a group of wealthy Republicans asked him to run for Governor of California. JR may have built Fitz up to be a modern day Superman and political Boy Wonder, but that phrase, "I'd hope you'd make the right decision and do the right thing," was Fitz's kryptonite and JR knew it.

* * *

_**Present day, in the White House**_

_"Mr. President, your father is here."_

**"WHAT?!** You mean here in the White House?

_"Yes, sir."_

"Tell him I'm not available."

_"Yes, sir,"_ said Mrs. Hanley, the president's secretary.

But as soon as Fitz hung up the phone, the door to the Oval Office swung wide up.

**"Hello, son!"**

"Dad! What the hell are you doing here?!

"Now, Fitz, is that any way to greet your old man? I took the red-eye all the way from L.A. to come see you and the family," said JR.

"Dad, I'm going to ask you again. What the hell are you doing here?"

"Your wife called me and informed me of this midlife crisis you're having. She figured I could talk some sense into you since nobody in your inner circle seems to be able to," said JR, looking around the Oval Office.

Fitz groaned. "Oh God, what did Mellie tell you?"

"You got any of that good Scotch around here?" said JR, opening up the cabinets in the Oval Office. "You know some of that 60-year-old Macallan single malt Scotch that the British prime minister normally sends at Christmas. I could really use a stiff drink."

"Dad, I asked you a question. What did Mellie tell you?!"

"She told me that you've asked for a divorce and that you plan to give up the presidency to run off with that young, black girl, Olivia Hope, who worked on your campaign," said JR.

"It's Pope, Dad, Olivia Pope, and she's not a girl, she's a woman," Fitz said irritated.

"If you say so, son. Obviously, you'd know better than I would whether she was a girl or a woman, right?" JR said, giving Fitz a sly wink.

"Look, JR, I'm sorry you came all this way for nothing…"

"Whoa, this must be serious!" the barrel-chested man interrupted Fitz, slapping him on the back. "You went from calling me 'Dad' to 'JR' in less than 30 seconds flat! You only call me by my name when you're really angry and want to get my attention," JR said chuckling. "OK, let's have it out."

"There's nothing to "have out." I've been miserable in my marriage for years, and I've asked Mellie for a divorce. She has agreed. End of story."

"Oh really? That's not the version I heard," JR said, finally discovering Fitz's bottle of Scotch. He took it out and poured himself a drink.

Fitz grabbed the bottle out of JR's hands and put it back in the cabinet. JR made his way to the couch and sat down. Fitz remained standing.

"Look, Fitz, I've seen photos of this Olivia. She's a real beauty, there's no denying that, and obviously she's real smart to have gotten you elected after that initial rocky start your campaign had. I get it. So why can't you be like a Kennedy and just have her on the side?" JR asked, taking a swig of Scotch. "There's no rule that you have to marry her."

Fitz was now officially pissed. "JR, I want you to leave. **NOW!**"

"Just hear me out, son. Love can go from warm hellos to sad goodbyes in the blink of an eye. Believe me, I know. You're throwing away everything you've worked for…for what? Happiness is an illusion. It doesn't last. It won't last. And then where will you be?"

"Being president was always your dream, Dad, not mine," Fitz said coldly.

"Are you serious? You've got to be kidding me! You've been in public office for 15 years. First Attorney General, then Governor, now President. You don't get to this level unless you really want it. This stopped being my dream and about you trying to live up to my expectations oh, I'd say about 10 years ago!" JR roared.

"You know what? This conversation is over. I've heard enough," Fitz said angrily, making his way over to the phone. He picked it up and dialed.

"What are you doing?" JR asked.

"I'm getting you a ride to the airport."

"What?! But I just got here!"

"Yes, and now you're leaving!"

"Son, don't be a pigheaded ass. Let's talk about this like two rational adults," JR said.

"There's absolutely nothing to talk about! I've already made my choice and I choose Olivia! _**Now, get out of my office!"**_

"Fine. I'll go, but I'd hope you'd make the right decision and do the right thing," JR said.

_**"Don't you dare!"**_

"Huh? I'm just making a simple statement that I'd hope you make the right decision and..."

Fitz cut him off. "Don't you dare say another word! It's not going to work this time, Dad. I'm immune to you and to that phrase."

"Huh? What? What are you talking about? What phrase?"

"You know what I'm talking about. Now, if you don't mind, I've got a country to run. _**Please leave!**_"

"OK, I'll leave but I'm not flying back out to the West Coast today. I'm dog tired and I need a place to stay. Mellie said that there are some renovations going on here in the White House and that I can stay at Blair House. That OK with you?"

Fitz was on the verge of having an aneurysm. He couldn't fucking believe this! The situation was unbelievable. He wanted to drop kick his dad's 300-pound ass all the way back to California, but instead he took a deep breath and composed himself.

"You'll leave first thing tomorrow morning?" he asked calmly.

"Yep," came the reply. "I'm not going to stay where I'm not wanted," said JR.

Fitz picked up the phone.

"Mrs. Hanley, will you please arrange for someone to escort my father across the street to Blair House. He'll only be staying one night. Thank you."

"Now, _**that's**_ my boy," JR said with a grin. He drained his glass of Scotch and then turned and left.

* * *

**_A/N: Guess who's coming to dinner? Olivia meets Papa Grant in the next update. Thanks for reading! _**


	20. Guess Who's Coming to Dinner

**Chapter 19: Guess Who's Coming to Dinner**

**_5 p.m._  
**

Olivia felt like crap. Not physically, but emotionally. She knew she had screwed up the night before when she left Blair House. The look of disappointment on Fitz's face really got to her. She decided she'd make it up to him that evening.

She left work at 5, to make sure she got to Blair House before he did. When she arrived, there were no Secret Service agents outside, so she knew the coast was clear. Using her key, she entered the house and quickly went upstairs. She figured she'd have a solid hour, at least, before Fitz arrived. This time she brought her stuff, so she decided she'd take a shower just to freshen up.

She was drying herself off when she thought she heard someone walking around downstairs. She cracked open the door to the bathroom, poked her head out and called out, _"Fitz? Hey Fitz? I'm upstairs."_ And then she closed the door and continued to dry herself off. She wrapped a towel around herself and started applying lotion to her body. A few moments later, there was a knock at the door.

"Yeah, Fitz, come in, the door's open. I thought I'd get here a little early and surprise you and…" Olivia, who had her back to the door, turned around and standing there in the doorway was a massive 300-pound giant.

_**"EEEEKKKKK!"**_ Olivia screamed, scrambling to grab another towel to wrap around her torso. _**"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!"**_

"Well, well, what do we have here?" said the giant. "You must be Olivia Pope. I'm Fitzgerald Thomas Grant Jr. But you can call me JR."

"Uh, uh, uh, OH MY GOD!," Olivia exclaimed. "You're Fitz's dad. I mean the President's father. I mean Mr Grant. I mean…." she stammered.

"Sorry to frighten you like that but I didn't know who was up here," JR said with a friendly smile. "I see that you've already made yourself right at home"

"Uh, yes, I can explain, it's that…."Olivia was totally flustered and her brain had short circuited. She couldn't form a single coherent sentence. She was wearing a towel in front of the father of the president of the United States, a man who might someday eventually be her father-in-law. Awkward.

"No explanation necessary," JR said, chuckling. "Why don't I leave you alone to finish getting dressed. Come downstairs when you're done." And with that he closed the door and was gone.

_"shit, shit, shit!"_ Olivia cursed under her breath. _What was he doing here? Why didn't Fitz tell me he was coming! _she thought.

Olivia was mortified. She hurried to get dressed, do her hair and put on some makeup. She ran her tongue over her teeth, looked in the mirror and smiled. No lipstick on the teeth, check. She then smoothed out her hair. She had it pulled back in a chic ponytail. She felt nervous. Very nervous. Why was Fitz's dad here?

* * *

_**7 p.m.**_

Fitz left the White House on edge. He was dreading going to Blair House this evening. For a brief moment he thought about just crashing on his couch in his private study, but no, he had to go. There was going to be no way of avoiding JR.

When Fitz and Hal entered the foyer of Blair House the sound of laughter greeted them. Fitz recognized the laugh. It was Olivia's. And then he heard his father's deep baritone voice talking. Fitz was taken aback. _What the…?_

Fitz slowly and quietly entered the kitchen.

"No, I'm telling you, unlike other Southern barbecues, Texas barbecue doesn't include cole slaw," Olivia was saying.

"Yeah, and it's heavy on the hot sauce," JR agreed.

"Ah, hello? Am I in the right place?" Fitz interrupted, an astonished look on his face.

"Fitz!" Olivia and JR said together in unison.

"Olivia. Dad. I see the two of you have met," Fitz said cautiously.

"Yes, sorry I didn't tell you that I was coming over, but I wanted to surprise you and instead your dad surprised me!" Olivia said looking over at JR.

"Olivia, c'mon, that'll be our little secret," JR said casting Olivia a conspiratorial glance. "You know what they say…what happens in Blair House stays in Blair House."

Olivia giggled.

"Who are you and what have you done to my father?" Fitz said to JR.

"Son, relax. I went to take a tour of the Smithsonian this afternoon and when I got back Olivia was already here waiting for you," JR said smiling. "We got to talking and found out that we have a lot in common, like a love for good BBQ."

"Oh really?" Fitz asked astonished.

"Yeah, we were talking about what's the best – Texas, Carolina, Memphis or Kansas City BBQ," JR said, getting up and walking over to the sink to rinse out his glass.

"Wow, well that's really something," Fitz said, walking over to Olivia and giving her a sideways hug. While JR's back was turned, Fitz whispered in her ear, _"but you HATE BBQ!"_ Olivia just smiled and shrugged her shoulders.

* * *

_**9 p.m.**_

Two hours later, Fitz couldn't believe how the time had flown. The trio had had a lively conversation over dinner that covered everything from food to movies to the economy to politics. Fitz couldn't believe how the conversation flowed and how much he was actually enjoying his father's company. The fight he had expected to have with JR looked like it was not going to materialize, at least not tonight, and Olivia was obviously the reason why. Fitz had no idea how Olivia had done it, but she had defused the ticking time bomb that was JR. Fitz took Olivia's hand and lightly stroked it while looking at her adoringly as she made her point in talking with JR about something. _God, she's incredible. I'm so lucky to have her_, Fitz thought.

Meanwhile, JR had never seen his son like this. Fitz was positively smitten. He couldn't keep his hands off Olivia. But it wasn't in a pervy, lustful way. The two of them together radiated love and it was quite a sight to see. Fitz and Mellie together seemed cold, corporate and scripted, but Fitz and Olivia together were warm, real and passionate. After two decades with Mellie the Ice Queen, JR could definitely see the appeal of Olivia Pope. Beyond the superficial things, like youth and beauty, he could see that she was a very caring person and that she truly loved his son. JR envied his son a little and at the same time felt extremely happy for him. If Fitz were going to give up the presidency for a woman, Olivia Pope was the right choice.

After dinner, while they were clearing the table, Fitz pulled Olivia aside and said, "please tell me you're staying over tonight. I need you here with me." Olivia smiled and quickly nodded her head yes. Fitz gave her a peck on the lips and said, "Go upstairs and wait for me. I want to talk to JR privately, OK?"

Fitz and JR retired to the Truman study. Fitz went into the liquor cabinet and pulled out two tumblers and a bottle of Scotch. JR examined the bottle's label. "Finally, you bring out the good stuff," the old man said laughing. "Pour me a glass."

Fitz complied while JR sat down on the couch. He dipped into his jacket and pulled out a cigar and went to light it.

"Dad, no smoking in here," Fitz said sternly.

"You're kidding, right? Indulge me," JR said and he went ahead and lit up.

Fitz rolled his eyes and went over to the window to open it. He poured two glasses of Scotch and handed one to his father and then he sank down in the overstuffed armchair across from where JR was seated on the sofa.

"She's lovely," JR finally said, a puff of smoke pluming out of his mouth as he spoke.

"I know," Fitz said cautiously, waiting for a shoe to drop.

"Fitz, I know you may not believe this, but I've only wanted the best for you," JR said. "If you felt that I was too hard on you or too demanding when you were growing up, it was only because I knew that you could go further and soar higher than I ever did."

"Dad…"

"No, Fitz, let me speak. Son, I'm proud of you. Very proud of you. You've accomplished a lot, more than I ever will, and I know that you've made a lot of personal sacrifices to get to where you are today. So there's something I want to say to both you and Olivia. Can you call her back down here, please?"

"Dad, if you have something to say, you should just say it to me and leave Olivia out of it," Fitz said, dreading what he thought JR was going to say.

"Fitz, trust me on this. You're going to want Olivia to hear what I have to say," JR said with finality. He took another drag off his cigar and waited for Fitz to get up and call Olivia.

Fitz left the room and went upstairs to the master bedroom. Olivia was sitting on the bed, still fully dressed, watching TV.

"Hey babe, Dad wants to talk to both of us," Fitz said with a sad voice.

"What happened? Is everything OK?" Olivia asked concerned.

"I don't know. My dad came here to talk me out of getting a divorce. That's the real reason why he came to D.C. I've already told him I'm not changing my mind but he was pretty insistent earlier today when he was in my office. I don't know what he's going to say to us now but the fact that he wants you to hear it, well, I don't know what to make of that. I just want you to be strong and not back down or let him bully you, OK?"

Olivia was now officially scared. She thought the dinner had gone splendidly. But now Fitz was saying that his dad's ulterior motives for his visit were still present.

Olivia and Fitz went back downstairs and entered the Truman study together.

"Olivia, thanks for coming back," JR said, standing up. "Please, sit down, both of you."

Fitz and Olivia exchanged worried glances and then sat down next to each other on the couch. Fitz put his arm around Olivia's shoulders and pulled her in close. Whatever his father was about to say, Fitz was determined that Olivia wouldn't feel exposed or vulnerable when JR finally dropped whatever bomb he had.

"As you both know, I came out here from California today on a mission – to talk Fitz out of getting a divorce from Mellie. Before I arrived, I thought I had very good odds of success. Although my son doesn't like to admit it, my opinion matters a lot to him. Always has, always will. But you know what I realized tonight is that what I think doesn't matter. At least, it shouldn't matter in this case. Because what matters is what the two of you feel for each other," JR said.

Fitz and Olivia exchanged surprised glances.

"Anybody could make a case, and a hell of a good case, that the two of you should not be together. But you're two wonderful people who happened to fall in love," JR continued. "You're both grownups and have both been in politics long enough to know what you're up against. Millions of people in this country will be shocked, offended and maybe even appalled by your relationship, but the two of you will just have to ride that out. When necessary, you'll have to cling tight to each other and say 'screw them' when it happens."

"So, I guess what I'm trying to say is that even though the two of you are going to face problems, you'll have no problem with me," JR said simply.

Fitz and Olivia just stared at JR. They were both in complete and utter shock, especially Fitz who looked stunned.

Olivia was the first to speak. "JR, I don't know what to say, except, thank you, thank you so much." She looked at Fitz.

Fitz stood up and took Olivia's hand. Together they walked over to JR and gave him a great big bear hug. "Thanks, Dad," Fitz whispered in JR's ear.

* * *

_**A/N: Team Fitz gains another member in JR! **Hope y'all are pleasantly surprised by the way this evening with Olivia, Fitz and JR went. :)  
_

_This chapter was greatly inspired by the movie of the same name. In fact I owe a debt of gratitude to the movie because that's where JR's speech basically came from, with some changes, of course. :) If you've never seen "Guess Who's Coming to Dinner," you should check it out. Although it was made over 40 years ago, it's a movie that has held up really well with the passage of time and is still relevant and on point for today._

**_As always, thanks so much to everyone who continues to read and follow this story. Writing this story is my guilty pleasure and I'm happy that I'm able to share it with all of you. Please let me know what you think of this chapter in a review._  
**

_**Thanks!**_

_**-Neo  
**_


	21. Playtime

**A/N:** Sorry I'm 2 days late posting this chapter. Life interrupted. Blame Clinton and Obama. I was watching the Democratic convention.

Anyway, a lot of you liked the last chapter. Yay! Thanks! It was a fun one to write. To those of you worried that JR is going to turn out to be on Team Mellie, don't worry, he's wearing a white hat. Story has got enough villains or potential villains without adding a new one to the mix at this point.

So let me set the scene for what you're about to read. This chapter takes place right after Fitz and Liv have their talk with JR. Olitz are now in Fitz's bedroom at Blair House getting ready for bed when we pick up their conversation. This bedroom is presidential, meaning it's big, so there's a sofa in this room, in addition to all the other regular bedroom furniture.

Olivia got a bit of a head start getting ready for bed because Fitz allowed her to use the bathroom first. So she's wearing one of Fitz's Navy tees and underwear while Fitz is just starting to get undressed but still has on his shirt and pants at this point.

Fitz is still in a little bit of shock that JR surrendered so easily without a fight, so he asks Olivia what did she and JR talk about before he (Fitz) arrived home that evening. So this chapter begins at that point of the conversation.

**Btw, (Fitz + Liv) x (couch + mirror + king size bed) = Playtime**

_**You've been warned. **_**:)**

* * *

**Chapter 20: Playtime  
**

"What did you say to him?"

"Well he said you getting a divorce would change the course of human history and ruin our country for decades to come…"

"Oh no, he didn't! You're exaggerating!" Fitz said smiling.

"… and I told him that he was a crusty, burnt out shell of an old man who couldn't remember what it felt like to be madly in love."

"Oh, Liv, no, you didn't!" Fitz said laughing hysterically.

"Oh, yes, I did! And he had the same reaction that you had the very first time we met on the campaign trail. Remember how I told you in front of everyone that you were stuck in a cold, dead marriage?"

"Oh my god!"

"Yeah and JR had the exact same reaction you did – his jaw dropped to the floor and then he immediately fell in love with me," Olivia said smugly. "Like father, like son."

_"Ew,"_ Fitz said with mock disgust. "JR would be seriously robbing the cradle if he hooked up with you. He's way too old for you."

_"Ha!_ Look who's talking!" Olivia replied, laughing.

"What? What are you saying? That I'm old? _Huh? Huh?_" Fitz said tickling her. Olivia giggled and squealed as he tickled and wrestled her. She squirmed her way into his arms in a spooning position on the couch.

"Funny, I don't hear you complaining about my age when I do this…" as his lips lightly brushed the nape of her neck. "Or when I do this," his voice slid inside her ear as his hand reached under the T-shirt to massage her breasts and tease her nipples. _"Or even when I do this,"_ his voice dropped down to a low, sexy whisper as he pushed his manhood, which was rapidly hardening, up against the small of her back.

_"Oh, Fitz,"_ Olivia responded in a hushed whisper as his kisses and touches ignited a flame that was beginning to heat up her core. She turned around so that they were facing each other and her mouth reached up to meet his. What started as a gentle pressing of the lips quickly grew very passionate as Fitz deepened the kiss and started making love to her mouth with his tongue.

Olivia tore her mouth away from his and panted, _"I want you, I want you more than I can show you."_

Fitz looked intensely at her, his beautiful grey eyes smoldering with desire. "I like the sound of that," he said running his hand along her thigh. "Why don't you try to show me?"

"You mean like this?" Olivia got up and straddled his thighs. Then, she began to unbutton his shirt. Starting at his forehead and working her way down, she peppered his face, neck and chest with soft tender kisses. Once his shirt was off, she ran her hands appreciatively over his firm hairy chest and then down over his washboard abs.

Fitz leaned forward to pull her in to him and began to feverishly kiss her but Olivia was having none of that. She pushed his upper body back against the couch to make room for the intense need she had at that moment to worship his cock. She unzipped his pants and released his throbbing manhood from its cotton chamber. She slid down to a kneeling position and made a few initial licks along the crown and shaft of his penis before she placed the tip of its piping-hot head into her mouth. Slowly her mouth took in his fully erect member, inch by precious inch. Fitz exhaled deeply. "Oh, Liv…"

The sight of Olivia's beautiful bee stung lips wrapped around his manhood mesmerized Fitz and turned him on even more. God, how many times had he imagined this scene when he woke up with a hard-on and now here was his woman doing exactly what he had always wanted. Olivia grasped the base of his cock with her hand and then bobbed her head up and down as she attacked his thick rod with her tongue, lips and mouth, switching up the tempo to keep Fitz's ultimate release firmly under her control. "Livvie, don't stop," came his command in a hoarse whisper.

Olivia obliged, taking his rock hard cock deeper inside her mouth. Fitz's head rolled to the side as he lay back against the couch. A wave of pleasure began to build inside him. Through half-opened eyes he caught their reflection in the bedroom's full-length mirror. The sight of Olivia going down on him and greedily gobbling his cock was transporting him to a state of ecstasy.

When Olivia stopped for a moment, Fitz stood up and then put his hands in her hair to position her head exactly back where it belonged, with her wet hot mouth draped around his throbbing manhood. He arched his back and pumped his dick in and out of her mouth while holding her head in place. Olivia's fingernails clawed into the back of his thighs and Fitz dropped back down on the couch only to find his dick under attack once again as Olivia's lips, mouth and tongue continued their oral assault.

With a free hand, she reached down and began to gently massage his balls. Deep guttural groans escaped from Fitz's open lips as he sank further down in the couch. Olivia's sweet mouth released his inflamed rod and then worked her way down to his scrotum where her tongue went to work licking and sucking his love sack. The incredible sensations that her tongue was causing in his nether regions almost drove Fitz over the edge and he could feel that he was about to explode in her mouth. But he didn't want to come just yet.

He swiftly grabbed Olivia by the shoulders and pulled her up from her kneeling position. His abrupt maneuver caught her by surprise and she let out a little squeal. Her surprise turned into excitement when Fitz scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. He threw her down and she landed with a bounce toward the middle of the kingsize bed. Fitz grabbed her by the ankles and roughly pulled her down to the edge of the bed. Olivia trembled. The large thick beast that her mouth had awakened and unleashed was rigidly pointing directly at her.

Fitz spread her legs apart and then quickly entered her pushing himself all the way up to the hilt. "Oooh," Olivia moaned as he penetrated her. Fitz, lubricated by her feminine juices, plowed smoothly in and out of her and then began to pick up the pace.

Olivia gripped his forearms, totally lost in a sea of exquisite sensations, as her body twisted and arched from his thrusts. She felt her bliss building with each massage of her walls and clit. She shouted Fitz's name, which drove him into a frenzy. They were both close, very close to coming. With a few more powerful strokes, Olivia's orgasm erupted and Fitz's whole body spasmed as he finally got his release. He collapsed on top of her, their hot sweaty bodies sticking together. She wrapped her arms around him and then moments later he rolled off her onto his side. They scooted up and away from the edge of the bed to its center and then laid back down.

"Livvie, that was incredible," Fitz said as his hand caressed her thigh. "You make me come so hard."

She smiled sweetly as she looked at him. He pulled her in close. She felt so right in his arms. In that moment Fitz thought of what a difference a day makes because the previous night Olivia had gotten so anxious and nervous that she walked out on him leaving him sad and lonely his first night at Blair House.

Now, 24 hours later, here she was with him, in his bed, tucked safely by his side. No drama. No worries. They could just be together, alone, in their own little utopia. These moments were like water and oxygen for him. He needed them to live.

They lay like that, quietly, for several minutes before Fitz finally spoke. "Livvie?"

_"Yes, baby?"_ Olivia replied, her voice already beginning to sound a little sleepy as the Sandman was fast approaching.

"Livvie, don't ever leave me, OK?" Fitz simply said.

_"Never."_

* * *

_**A/N:** OK, playtime is officially over. What will tomorrow and the dawning of a new day bring for Fitz and Olivia? Back to reality, I'm afraid._

_Anyway, **thank u for reading and reviewing**. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!_

_Until next time,_

Neo


	22. Finally Free

**Chapter 21: Finally Free  
**

It was a little after 9 a.m. and Mellie was waiting patiently in her office for JR to call. Yesterday he told her that he would call her in the morning to talk to her about his conversation with Fitz.

9:39 a.m. Mellie picked up her stack of mail and started flipping through it. She was getting more impatient by the second wondering if JR had possibly meant that he would call her sometime that day, not necessarily first thing.

9:45 a.m. _Maybe I should call him_, Mellie thought. She opened up her personal contacts list on her computer and looked for JR's number. Just as she was about to dial, her phone intercom beeped.

_"Mrs. Grant, your father-in-law is here to see you,"_ said her secretary.

"Send him in," Mellie replied.

JR walked into the office. "Good morning, Mellie."

"JR! Good morning to you! Thanks for dropping by. I thought you were going to call, but an in-person visit is even better," Mellie said sweetly, completely in First Lady mode.

"Well, Mellie, what we have to talk about is too important to discuss over the phone," JR said, sitting down.

"I agree," Mellie replied, still smiling. Although her relationship with her father-in-law had never been close, she was still confident that she had done the right thing by contacting him and asking him for his help in stopping this divorce. Fitz's presidency was "under attack," Mellie had said, and JR was the only person who could put a stop to this madness. Her plea had worked and JR came out on the next flight to D.C. Now she was eager to hear how JR's father-son talk had gone.

"So, how did it go yesterday?" Mellie asked, impatiently. "Did you get Fitz to change his mind?"

"Mellie, I know this is a bitter pill for you to swallow, but there's nothing any of us can do to stop Fitz from getting this divorce. And for me, personally, now that I've had a chance to speak with him about it, I have no desire or plans to stop him," Jr said.

"What?! You cannot be serious!" Mellie exclaimed. She was astonished. JR Grant was OK with Fitz getting a divorce? No way, that couldn't be right.

"I'm surprised myself. You're probably not going to believe this, but I'm probably even more surprised than you that I'm OK with this," JR said.

"So, what happened?"

"Mellie, you know that old saying that when you're in a hole stop digging? Well, you need to stop digging," JR replied. "Your marriage is over and there's nothing that is going to change Fitz's mind about the divorce."

"JR, I must say, I'm very disappointed in you," Mellie said in a condescending tone. "You, of all people, I thought would want to fight tooth and nail to make sure this divorce doesn't happen."

"Well, you thought wrong," JR said. He pulled out a huge envelope and handed it to her.

"What's this?"

"The divorce papers. You need to sign them and you need to sign them now. I'm not leaving this room until you do."

_"What?!"_ Mellie exclaimed. "Did Fitz put you up to this?!"

"No, he didn't. Fitz, actually, hasn't asked for my help and doesn't know that I'm here. I got these papers from Bob Pearson. Now, please sign," JR said, handing her a pen.

"I will do no such thing!"

"Mellie, you've got no more cards left to play. The game is over. It's time to pack up and move on."

"So what exactly am I supposed to do as a divorced First Lady?" Mellie asked. "I can't exactly go out and look for a job."

"Mellie, I know that you already agreed to sign, so you can't go back on your word. Also, I know that you've always had your own ambitions to run for public office. Doesn't it make more sense to keep Fitz happy and on your side so that maybe he'd be willing to help you get elected?"

Mellie glared at JR.

"You're going to need Fitz's political contacts. Don't make him your enemy, especially if Cyrus is on his side," JR continued.

Mellie sat there and pouted. "Well, I'm going to need some money to set myself up in a new life. Fitz offered me a pittance to get out of this marriage."

"Yeah, about that," JR said, reaching into his suit jacket and pulling out a checkbook. He opened it and started writing. "How about you take this today and there will be another one like it in a year, as long as you keep your mouth shut and don't make any trouble for my son."

He signed the check with a flourish and handed it to Mellie. She looked at it. She knew this was as good as she was going to get and that what JR was proposing was infinitely better than what Fitz had offered. She gave JR a smile of smug satisfaction. She grabbed his pen, took the divorce papers and signed them.

* * *

**2 p.m.**

Billy Chambers came back from lunch to a bunch of voicemail messages. It never failed, the second he stepped out of the office was when people decided to return his calls. There were five voicemails. Two from congressional aides, one from a Christian Conservative think tank, one from his mechanic saying his car was ready for pick up and the last one was from Gideon Wallace, the reporter.

_Hello, this is Gideon Wallace of the D.C. Tattler. I'd like to ask you a few questions about the ongoing renovations at the White House. Please call me back at…."_

For the life of him, Billy couldn't understand why Gideon would be calling him. He had met the reporter once at a political photo op for Vice President Sally Langston and maybe they had exchanged business cards. Billy couldn't remember. Anyway, Gideon Wallace wasn't someone he would normally speak to. That's what the White House press office was for, to handle these kinds of things. If Gideon was calling him it was because he was on a fishing expedition for inside dirt. Well, Billy wasn't interested in helping. But then a thought occurred to him. Maybe Gideon knew something and needed confirmation. Maybe the pesky journalist had some morsel of info that could come in handy for Billy. He saved the message and hung up the phone.

Billy got up and went to Cyrus' office.

"Hey, Cy, do you know anything about that D.C. Tattler reporter Gideon Wallace?"

"Why are you asking?" Cyrus replied.

"He called me asking about the White House renovations?"

"Why on earth would he call you about that?" Cyrus asked, a suspicious look on his face.

"I don't know. I figure he's fishing for dirt on the White House," Billy replied.

"Don't call him back. Just ignore him," Cyrus said.

"Is there anything going on that I should be aware of?" Billy asked.

"Like what?"

"I don't know. But don't you think it's weird that some random reporter would call me out of the blue?"

"Billy, he's probably contacting anyone he's ever heard of who works at the White House. Just ignore him," Cyrus said.

Billy turned and left Cy's office. He couldn't help it. His curiosity was getting the better of him. Despite Cyrus' order, Billy would call Gideon and find out what exactly it was he was fishing for. Who knows? The info could come in handy.

* * *

**6:00 p.m.**

Ryan Bishop was sitting in the President's private study giving him an updated status report. It had been a week since Bishop and his crew had began the "renovation" of the Executive Residence.

It had taken a while, but Bishop had found the manuscript in a hat box tucked away in a corner of the walk-in closet behind a stack of shoe boxes. The USB drive that Mellie had stored her tell-all manuscript on was found inside her jewelry box, not the bedroom safe. She had hidden it in the last place she knew Fitz would look for it. Smart cookie. Bishop erased the drive and put it back where he found it.

He also installed spy software on Mellie's laptop so that he could monitor her activity online, read her outgoing emails and have remote control over her computer.

After Bishop finished giving Fitz his status report he said, "Sir, we've done everything possible to contain this threat. If the First Lady steps out of line, you'll know it."

Fitz thanked Bishop for a job well done and then the security pro left.

Fitz walked back into the Oval Office and sat back down in his chair and looked at the written report Bishop had left with him summarizing everything he had just said. Finally, some real progress, he thought. Now all that was left was to get Mellie's signature on those divorce papers.

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in."

It was Mrs. Hanley, the president's secretary.

"Mr. President, your father dropped off this envelope for you earlier today. I didn't realize until now that you hadn't picked this up," she said, handing him the large envelope.

"Thank you, Mrs. Hanley. Have a good evening."

"Thank you, sir. You too."

He opened the large envelope. Inside was a manila folder with a Post-it on the outside. On it was written: _"You're free. JR"_

Fitz literally stopped breathing for a moment when he saw what was inside the folder: a copy of a check made out to Mellie for $10 million and her signature on the divorce papers.

Fitz let out a whoop of jubilation and did a Tiger Woods-style fist pump. JR had accomplished in one morning what weeks of arguing and cajoling on the part of Fitz had not - gotten him his freedom. He was now, finally and officially, a free man.

* * *

**A/N:** _So the divorce is finally final. Yay! Fitz is now legally free to be with Olivia. Double yay! Guess it will soon be time to tell the American people what's going on. But will Fitz have a chance to tell them on his own terms and his own time frame, or will someone else beat him to the punch? And what comes next for Mellie? Should this be the last that we see and hear from her?_

_ **Speculate away in a review. As always, thanks so much for reading and reviewing!**_

_**-Neo  
**_


	23. Rumor Has It

**A/N: **With Season 2 right around the corner, I finally broke down and opened a Twitter account. I already have four (!) Twitter accounts related to my job and hobbies, so I was very, very reluctant to create a fifth. But I know that season 2 is going to be great and it will be fun to connect with other Scandal fans. Of course it being Twitter, I couldn't get the name I wanted - neoyorquina was already taken and _ScandalNeo_ turns out belongs to a Scandinavian porn star, so **NeoScandal** is what I finally arrived at. If you're on Twitter, post your Twitter handle in the review section for this story and I'll follow you. Thanks!**  
**

* * *

**Chapter 22: Rumor Has It**

**_"…and so it is, with an extremely heavy heart, that I'm announcing that I will not be seeking reelection…."_**

**_Three weeks earlier. _**_(Evening in Blair House. Olivia is in the kitchen when Fitz arrives.)_

"Hi, baby," Olivia greeted Fitz with a light kiss. "How'd your day go."

Fitz, loosening his tie, goes to the fridge and opens it. He reaches inside and grabs an ice cold bottle of White House Ale.

"Well, I had to attend a prayer breakfast this morning with Sally Langston, then listen to a two-hour national security briefing, then do an international conference call with Mandela, Bono and Kofi Annan about world hunger." He popped the bottle cap and took a long swig of ale. "And, something landed on my desk this evening that you're going to want to take a look at."

"Oh yeah? What is it?" Olivia said, her back to Fitz as she reached up to take plates out of a kitchen cabinet.

"The divorce papers. Mellie signed them."

_**CRASH!** _The shock of the news caused Olivia to drop the plate she was holding on to the floor.

"What?" Olivia turned around and looked at Fitz, her mouth wide open.

"Mellie signed the divorce papers. You are now officially talking to a legally free man."

Silence.

"Liv, did you hear me? Mellie signed the divorce papers."

"Are you serious? Fitz, please, don't joke like that."

"No joke. Here's my passport to freedom," he said, holding up a large envelope containing the signed document. "I got paroled today at 6 pm."

She grabbed the envelope, ripped it open and quickly flipped to the last page. There on the dotted line was Fitz's signature and then Mellie's.

"Is this really true? Is this really happening?" Olivia said, looking up at Fitz, her eyes becoming misty. "I'm not dreaming am I? Pinch me, hold me, kiss me, so I know that I'm not dreaming."

Fitz laughed and grabbed her by the waist and pulled her in close. "There's so much more than kissing I'd like to do to you right now." And then he planted a long, slow kiss on her lips.

* * *

The next two-and-a-half weeks were peaceful and uneventful. Fitz still hadn't decided when he was going to announce the divorce to the American people and Olivia was fine with that. They both felt like there wasn't any rush at this point and that they may as well enjoy the privacy before the whole world knew. So when Olivia's Google alert popped up alerting her to a new blog entry about Fitz on the DC Tattler web site, she knew that her private time with Fitz was drawing to a close and that he would soon have to go public.

_**Trouble in Paradise?**_ by Gideon Wallace

_A little birdie has informed this intrepid reporter that **President Grant and First Lady Grant have separated**. No official comment from the White House on this claim, but when I called Bette Fleming, the White House press secretary, she initially claimed that Pres. Grant was staying in Blair House because of a renovation of the Executive Residence. But the renovation is now complete and Pres. Grant still hasn't moved back. According to my source, the FLOTUS, meanwhile, continues to spend her nights alone in the White House. **Could this be the end of the road for these two?**_

Billy Chambers looked up from his laptop and smiled. That Gideon Wallace was the perfect pawn. Billy still couldn't believe his good luck. Gideon Wallace had handed him a gift and Billy couldn't believe how easy it was now going to be to dethrone Fitz and get Sally Langston in the top spot as prez. Billy chuckled to himself and said, "And to think I went to all that trouble before to try to get Fitz Grant to declare war on Pakistan, when all I needed was to wait for him to trip himself up."

**48 hours later**

_**Two's company, three's a crowd**_ by Gideon Wallace

_So the latest from the presidential homefront is that the current separation between the Grants may be a permanent one and that the two are headed to divorce court. Turns out a third party is involved. **Rumor has it that our POTUS is shacking up with a very lovely lady.** If true, this revelation would truly be scandalous. I have a name but am still working to confirm. Stay tuned!_

**24 hours later**

**_Decisions, decisions_ **by Gideon Wallace

_So, I will soon be revealing **the identity of Pres. Grant's mistress**. If true, the news will be explosive. Let's just say this is one powerful woman. **You do NOT want to cross this lady 'cause she will cut you!** I'm making sure I've got my info nailed down and correct because this woman is the type who would sue me into the next century if I get a single detail wrong. I've put in a call to her seeking comment, so we'll see what she says. For its part, the White House continues to say "no comment." No surprise there._

_But all this speculation about Pres. Grant's love life has got to be a huge, messy distraction for the White House. A stagnant U.S. economy, unrest in the Middle East, and the 2012 presidential election is less than a year away and all people are buzzing about these days is…**who's banging the Commander-in-Chief?**_

* * *

Cyrus burst into the Oval Office.

"Cy, you really have to to learn how to knock," Fitz said.

"Mr. President, look!" Cyrus threw down the latest from the DC Tattler on Fitz's desk. "You're becoming a laughingstock!"

Fitz picked up the paper and read Gideon Wallace's latest entry.

"I'm less disturbed by this article than I am by the fact that we've got an obvious leak here in the White House," Fitz said calmly. "This reporter obviously has someone here on the inside feeding them info. Instead of flying off the handle at me, Cy, why don't you do your damn job and find out who's talking about my private life with this lowlife reporter!"

"Mr. President, this trickle of info that is coming out is damaging to your reputation. It's like a death by a thousand cuts. You need to come clean with the American people and tell people what's going on and you need to do it sooner rather than later," Cyrus said.

Fitz just stared at him.

####

When Olivia's phone rang, the number that appeared was one that she didn't recognize. Normally, she'd let a call like that go directly into voicemail so that she could screen it, but it was late in the day so she answered it.

"Hello?"

_"Is this Olivia Pope?"_

"Speaking."

_"Good evening, Ms. Pope. This is Gideon Wallace calling from the D.C. Tattler."_

Olivia's stomach lurched. "Yes, how can I help you Mr. Wallace," she said calmly and professionally.

_"I'll just get right to the point. Are you having an affair with the President of the United States?"_

Olivia let out a little laugh. "Are you a comedian or a journalist? Because that's the most ludicrous thing I've ever heard and not even worthy of a response."

_"So, are you denying that you're the President's mistress?"_

"Mr Wallace, I don't know where you're getting your info from, but you are way off base here. If I were you, I would tread lightly. You better hope to God that your employer has enough cash in the bank to cover the check they're going to have to pay me when I sue your ass for slander and defamation."

_**Click.**_

Gideon pulled the phone away from his ear and smiled. "So, I take it that the answer is yes."

Back at Pope & Associates, Olivia slammed the phone down. A little wave of panic started to build inside her. She picked up the phone and called Fitz.

"That damn reporter just called me. He knows about us and he's going to publish something about our relationship," Olivia blurted out.

Fitz let out a heavy sigh. "Liv, calm down."

"I am calm."

"You don't sound it."

"What are we going to do? This is getting out of control. We need to control the narrative. We can't have this idiot reporter dictating when we go public with our relationship," Olivia said.

"So, what are you suggesting?"

"I'm not suggesting. I'm asking you to hold a press conference. Announce that you're divorced but leave my name out of it. The press and public will be so stunned by the fact that you've come out and admitted the divorce that they will be swept up by that info that they won't be focused on me."

"Hmm, well, Liv, you're going to have to come out of the closet eventually," Fitz said.

"I know, but I'm not ready yet," she replied.

* * *

_**16 hours later, White House press conference**_

_"After 20 years of marriage, First Lady Grant and I have decided to divorce. This was not an easy decision and not a decision that we took lightly. However, the First Lady and I have decided that in the best interests of our family, this was the right choice for us to make at this stage of our lives. We signed the divorce decree three weeks ago. The divorce was amicable and Mellie and I will always have a high level of respect and admiration for one another as we will continue to raise our children. Until the end of my term, I will live in Blair House while First Lady Grant will continue to live in the White House…_

The flash and lights of the TV and newspaper cameras blinded Fitz as he stood at the podium, but he continued speaking.

_"…and so it is, with an extremely heavy heart, that I'm announcing that I will not be seeking reelection…."_

The White House press corps went berserk. The room erupted with questions. But Fitz continued speaking.

_"I have enjoyed my years of public service and I wish to thank the American people for the tremendous honor they have bestowed on me by electing me their president. However, I've reached a point in my life where I wish to return to being a private citizen, so for that reason, I've decided not to run for reelection in 2012. Thank you very much. May God bless you and may God bless America. Thank you."_

And with that, Fitz was done. He turned and left the podium as pandemonium broke out in the White House press briefing room.

* * *

**A/N:** So now the whole world knows that Fitz and Mellie are divorced and that Fitz doesn't plan to run for reelection. Billy Chambers is ecstatic that his boss, Sally Langston, now appears to have a brand new shortcut to taking over the Oval Office. Looks like everyone, even the bad guys, are going to get their happily ever after…._or will they? _:)

Find me on Twitter at **NeoScandal**


	24. Sex, lies and still oblivious

**A/N:** OK, gladiators, so I need your help again. You guys have never steered me wrong in the past. Here's the situation: When I started this story back in early August, I planned to have it finished by Sept. 27. I felt like that was this story's expiration date. I was on track to reaching that deadline until last week when I got totally off schedule. I know how I want this story to end but I outlined the remaining plot on paper and I've got enough material for approximately another 8 to 10 chapters! There's no way I can write 10 (quality) chapters in 9 days, so that's the problem.

I'm worried that if I don't finish this story by Sept. 27, I'm going to lose any desire or motivation to finish it once Season 2 starts because I know Shonda Rhimes is going to come up with a fresh storyline that is going to make all others obsolete. But then I don't want to leave this story unfinished. So…what's a fan fiction writer to do?

What I want to hear from you is which option you'd prefer:

**Option 1:** **Wrap up the story by Sept 27** and skip a lot of stuff I had originally planned. Story may wind up feeling rushed and quality cannot be guaranteed.

**Option 2: I take my time and the story gets finished…maybe….sometime after, possibly way after, Sept. 27**. Like I said, if Shonda Rhimes blows us out of the water with a completely new story arc, I may lose all interest in finishing this story. That's the danger. **I hate to say that but I'm just being honest.**

**Option 3: I go into seclusion and don't watch Season 2 until I finish writing this story. _Nah, just joking. This option ain't never gonna happen!_**

OK, seriously, will you guys be pissed if I don't finish this story by Sept 27? If I never finish it at all? **Any advice on how I can stay motivated and not get distracted by episode 1 of Season 2? Will you continue to read Scandal fan fiction while the show is in season or will you avoid this site until after Season 2 is over?** Give me your thoughts in a review. Thanks!

* * *

**Chapter 23: Sex, lies and still oblivious**

_39% and falling._

It was Week 2 of Fitzgate and Pres. Grant's approval ratings were dropping faster than Kim Kardashian's drawers on a first date with this month's flavor-of-the-month rapper. To be sure, Fitz had anticipated this, but to see it happen in real time was shocking. Before his announcement of the divorce and his decision to not seek reelection, his presidential approval rating at had been hovering around 45%. That wasn't great but about what to be expected in light of the country's high unemployment rate, sluggish job growth, continuing recession and a sense that the Grant administration hadn't done enough to stimulate the economy.

But Pres. Grant's announcement that he was, essentially, quitting, angered the electorate and the reaction from the punditocracy was fierce and immediate.

**James Carville,** Democratic strategist: _"This dude is like **Sarah Palin, Version 2.0 – a quitter!** He spent all these years climbing the Republican Party hierarchy and then he wakes up one morning and says, 'take this job and shove it!' **America deserves better than this playboy dilettante!"**_

**Pat Buchanan**: Conservative newspaper columnist. _"Pres. Grant is a joke and a disgrace to the Grand Old Party. **He's a RINO – Republican in Name Only.** Let us be grateful that he's thrown in the towel now so that the Republican Party has enough time to find a suitable and viable successor to the throne, uh, I mean, presidency in 2012."_

**Rush Limbaugh**: Right-wing radio host and professional windbag: _"Well, thank you, Mr. President for effectively obliterating any chance of the GOP holding on to the White House in the next election. The Democrats are going to use this against us. And I know these people like I know every square inch of my glorious naked body."_

**Pat Robertson**: Conservative Christian preacher/TV personality: _**"This is the devil's work, I tell you. The devil!** I spoke to God this morning. I have a special hotline to heaven, yes sir, indeed I do, and the Lord God Almighty, he told me right to my face, yes sir, that Fitzgerald Thomas Grant has been a pretender from Day 1! A pretender! And you know what God told me? He told me, and I quote **"**Your president holds a radical view of the direction of your country which is at odds with the majority, expect chaos and paralysis." And now look at us today! **God is a Republican, so he knows these things."**_

**Sarah Palin,** former Republican Governor of Alaska and Fox News commentator: _"It may be tempting and more comfortable to just keep your head down, plod along, and appease those who demand: 'Sit down and shut up,' but that's the worthless, easy path; that's a quitter's way out. **My advice to Pres. Grant? Don't retreat. Reload! Only dead fish go with the flow."**_

**John Edwards,** Former U.S. Senator, Democratic vice presidential nominee, philanderer extraordinaire, and all-around disgraced politician: _"Hey, don't ask me!"_

Surprisingly enough, Olivia's involvement in all of this still hadn't come out. The media's collective mind had been so totally blown by the fact that Fitz and Mellie had divorced and that Fitz wasn't running for reelection that the idea that there may be a third party involved had, at least, temporarily not risen to the top of the news cycle. But it was only a matter of time.

Gideon Wallace had been instructed by his editor not to run anything about a possible presidential mistress until he had undeniable proof. The newspaper, which was owned by News Corp, Rupert Murdoch's media conglomerate, didn't want to take any chances and end up at the receiving end of a presidential lawsuit.

Olivia and Fitz, meanwhile, had both decided that they needed to chill things out a bit, so no more sleepovers at Blair House. They had both decided they didn't want to add any more fuel to the media's fire. They spoke on the phone every day, but after Fitz hadn't seen Olivia in 14 days, he was going stir crazy. He was very crabby and anxious and desperate to see his sweet baby, so he concocted a brilliant plan that he was sure would be a solution to their current predicament.

Olivia was in her office and had just wrapped up a meeting with her team regarding an old client who was in need of her services again. She was walking back to her office when the elevator chimed and out walked two Secret Service agents she didn't recognize. "Hello gentlemen. What brings you here today?"

"Good afternoon, Ms. Pope," said the taller one, giving her a little head nod. "Mind if we do a quick sweep?"

"What?" Olivia asked. "Don't tell me…"

The second elevator chimed indicating a new arrival, and the door opened.

"Hey, babe," said Fitz, strolling off the second elevator, accompanied by his regular agents Tom and Hal. "I come bearing gifts," he said with a grin, holding up two small Whole Foods shopping bags.

"Fitz, I mean, Mr. President! What on earth are you doing here?" Olivia asked nervously, catching herself and slipping into formal mode.

Fitz cocked an eyebrow and gave her look as if to say, _"Seriously? Are you seriously calling me Mr President?"_ He decided to play along.

"Well, Ms. Pope, I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop by and bring you lunch. Just fulfilling a campaign pledge that I made. I think this was one of my original campaign promises – to put a chicken in every pot," Fitz said, smiling.

Olivia groaned and rolled her eyes. "Follow me."

As Fitz walked down the hallway he marveled at the Pope & Associates office space, which looked like something out of a recent issue of Architectural Digest. It was his first time visiting and he was impressed. With its high, vaulted ceilings, original 19th-century architectural details plus wide open spaces divided by glass walls, he was struck by the warmth of its old world charm and elegance mixed with a contemporary, modern vibe. Classic Olivia Pope. _"Man, my woman has good taste,"_ he thought.

Abby, Huck, Harrison and Quinn all popped out of the conference room, their jaws on the floor as Fitz and Olivia went walking past. "Huck, good to see you again," said Fitz, stopping to shake Huck's hand. Huck just looked at him and then remembered his manners and stuck out his hand for a quick shake.

Olivia wanted to just keep going but realized she should introduce Fitz to the rest of the team, so she did. Harrison was cool, although Liv could tell he was very excited. Quinn was giddy and acting like a school girl, _"OHMIGOD! I can't believe it's really you!"_ she squealed, while Abby was cool and professional in her greeting. "Mr. President. Nice to meet you."

The two Secret Service agents who had arrived moments before Fitz had already gone ahead and started doing a sweep of the office, starting with Olivia's private office. So by the time Fitz and Olivia arrived there, the agents said it was clear for the POTUS to enter.

Once Olivia and Fitz were inside, Olivia closed the door and then said, "What the hell are you doing here? Are you insane?!"

Fitz just looked at her. "Seriously? Is this any way to greet your man? Your man that you haven't seen in two weeks?"

"Fitz! You shouldn't be here!" Olivia hissed, poking her head around his body to look behind him and noticing that everyone, including the Secret Service agents were standing in the hallway looking at them through the glass.

Fitz turned around to see what Olivia was looking at. "Well, looks like we've attracted quite a crowd."

Olivia walked over to the glass and drew the blinds.

"Now, will you tell me what the hell you're doing here? I can't believe you're being so reckless!"

"Olivia, you really need to relax. You're so uptight. I guess you get like this when you haven't gotten any loving in a while. Am I right or am I right?" He slowly approached her with a sly, mischievous grin.

"Fitz, don't come any closer, " Olivia said, putting her hand up. "Not here. We can't do this here."

"Do what?"

"Fitz!"

"C'mon, Liv. Stop yanking my chain," Fitz said, coming closer. "Whisper in my ear what exactly it is that we can't do here."

"Fitz, you take one step closer and I'm going to scream so loud that your Secret Service detail is going to come in here with their guns drawn" Olivia hissed.

"You wouldn't dare," Fitz said, chuckling.

"Test me," Olivia said, defiantly.

"OK, OK," Fitz said, taking a step back. "You win. But Jesus Christ, Liv, you are such a hard ass sometimes."

Olivia smiled, triumphant in the knowledge that she had won this round. This office was her workspace, her castle, her fortress. Fitz needed to respect her authority in this place, her place, she thought. She turned her back to him to walk over to her desk and that was all that Fitz needed. Her back was turned for only a second but Fitz descended on her like a starving man lunging for a scrap of bread thrown on the sidewalk. He swooped over and grabbed her by the waist and twirled her around. "Fitz!" Olivia shrieked, but before she could squeak out another word his mouth was pressed up against hers and a millisecond later Olivia's lips parted to grant his tongue entry.

Olivia was such a tart. As always she talked a good game but inevitably folded like a cheap suit whenever Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III kissed her. She was defenseless against his advances.

"Fitz, please, not here," Olivia pleaded with him as he continued smothering her in kisses and began to unbutton her shirt. "Fitz, stop, please, stop. We have an audience outside. Please, not here."

Fitz stopped kissing her. There was something in her voice that he could tell that she was stressed. He stopped. "OK, but I can't help it," he said. "It's been two weeks since we've seen each other and I've been going nuts without you."

Olivia's face softened. He looked like a little boy with a pout on his face. How could she be upset when he looked like that. "Baby, I know," she said, stroking his cheek. "I've missed you too, but we can't act like this. Not here, not right now."

"Man, Olivia, we're not even married and you've already got me whipped," Fitz said, with a wry chuckle, raking his hand through his hair. "OK, fine, as you wish," he said, sobering up. "Well, I did bring lunch, so let's eat."

"Yes, let's. What did you get?"

"For you, smoked turkey with jalapeño peppers and Monterey Jack cheese on a pretzel baguette, and for me, a pastrami on rye."

"_mmmmm_," Olivia said, eagerly dipping her hand into the brown paper bag to find her sandwich. "How did you know that I love these pretzel rolls?"

"Uh, the fact that you buy some every time you bring food to Blair House, I think, was a bit of a clue," Fitz said, smiling.

"God, am I that obvious?" Olivia asked, laughing.

"Yep," Fitz replied, taking out some napkins, a bag of potato chips, plastic utensils and sodas from the second bag. He popped open a can of Coke and took a sip while Olivia cleared some papers off her desk to make room for their impromptu picnic.

Olivia sat behind her desk while Fitz sat directly across from her in front. The two were enjoying their lunch when Fitz finally spoke.

"So, Liv, I've been thinking that I can't go on like this, not seeing you for weeks at a time," Fitz said.

"Yeah, I know it's not ideal, but it's not going to be forever," Olivia responded.

"Well, it sure feels like forever," he replied.

"So, what's the alternative? Everyone is pretty pissed at you right about now. I don't think it would be wise for us to flaunt our relationship in public," she said.

"I agree. That's why I've come up with a solution."

"A solution? What kind of solution?"

Fitz reached into his suit jacket and pulled out an envelope.

"What's this?" Olivia said, putting her sandwich down and wiping her mouth.

"This, Ms. Pope, is a formal declaration from the Office of the President of the United States naming you special senior advisor to the President," Fitz said proudly.

"Fitz, you cannot be serious," Olivia said, looking at the document bearing the official presidential seal.

"Well, Ms. Pope, it turns out that my presidential approval ratings are down, way down, and I need someone I can trust, a professional fixer, to fix this situation for me," Fitz said.

"Ah, man, Fitz, don't be ridiculous!" Olivia exclaimed.

"Olivia, think about it for a minute," Fitz replied. "If I make you special senior advisor brought in to rehab my image, the media isn't going to think that I'd be so bold as to hire my woman to do this. It will stop the media from snooping around you. It will throw them off our scent."

"Fitz, I'm not sure I like the sound of this. This could totally backfire," Olivia said slowly. "This is so risky."

"Actually, it's so brilliant," Fitz replied. "Think about it - we'll be able to go out in public together, do things together, etc. And the White House can just say that we're working to rehab my image. We will essentially be hiding in plain sight."

Olivia stood up and started to slowly walk around to the front of her desk. She came to a stop directly in front of him and leaned against the desk while he remained seated. She looked at him.

"C'mon, Liv, admit it, this is a brilliant plan," he said excited, reaching out to hold her hand. "This is exactly the sort of thing you'd come up with or recommend if I were your client."

He let her hand go and took another bite of his pastrami and rye. He cast another glance at Olivia who was clearly thinking. He finished chewing and swallowed. "So, babe, what do you say? You in or you out?"

Olivia looked down at him. "You've got a little mayo, right there at the corner," she said, pointing at his mouth.

Fitz took a napkin and wiped his mouth. "All gone?"

"Ahhh, no. Not quite," Olivia said, sitting in his lap. Fitz gave her a smirk. Olivia wrapped her arms around his neck and then slowly lowered her mouth to capture his lips with her own. Fitz tightened his embrace and Olivia deepened the kiss. When their lips parted, Olivia leaned back and took her index finger and stroked it slowly across his bottom lip and then licked her finger. "Now, all gone."

* * *

_**A/N:** Ah, Fitz and Livvie. Gotta love 'em! They're like a couple of horny teenagers! What do you think of Fitz's plan to make Olivia his "senior special advisor"? Brilliant plan or just plain stupid? Let me know in a review.  
_

_**As always, thanks a million for reading and reviewing!**_

_**Neo **_

_**P.S. You can also find me on Twitter at NeoScandal.  
**_


	25. Listen

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who gave me their feedback on how to finish this story.** A large number of you would like me to wrap this story up before Sept. 27. With less than five days to go though that will be physically/mentally impossible for me to do. But I'm going to try very hard to write as much as I humanly can before Season 2 starts. I anticipate that the coming chapters, with the exception of one in particular, will be on the shorter side as I try to push through to the finish line. There will be multiple chapters posted over the next few days, so sign up to get a story alert emailed to you if you don't normally visit this site daily.

This chapter brings back a character introduced in "Bewitched, Bothered & Bewildered," which is Chapter 5 of _**"An Ounce of Truth for Every Treason.**_" Just click on my name and you can find that story under my user profile.

* * *

**Chapter 24: Listen**

Growing up in the wealthy D.C. enclave of Bethesda, Maryland, Olivia Pope never wanted for anything. At least no material things. The daughter of two high-powered black professionals who had come of age during the Civil Rights era, Olivia was raised to be perfect. Her parents had very high standards and never coddled her emotionally. Mediocrity was frowned upon and being just good enough was never enough in the Pope family. Olivia was raised to excel and to exceed expectations.

Now here she was, 35 years old, sitting at the top of her profession. She was the founder and owner of one of Washington, D.C.'s best crisis communications firms with a wealthy clientele who trusted her to find the right solution to their problems. She had worked long and hard to get to this level and had made numerous sacrifices. One of those sacrifices was a personal life. She had had none until Fitz, and now here he was giving up everything he had worked an entire lifetime to gain, just to have a life with her. In the grand scheme of things, he had more to lose than she did. So although their uncertain future frightened her, she would continue moving forward with Fitz. She had to, because the alternative, a life without him, wasn't any life at all.

Olivia thought over Fitz's offer to become his senior special advisor and then decided against it. It was way too risky. Yes, of course, she would advise him, but she needed to do it in an unofficial capacity, off the record, away from the prying eyes of the public. After all, she still had a professional life separate from Fitz. She had a business to run, a business that was based on her sterling reputation for having good judgment and discretion.

In fact, it worried Olivia greatly to think about what was going to happen to her professionally once she and Fitz truly went public. Yes, he was now divorced, but nobody was going to believe that their relationship had started in the weeks after he and Mellie divorced. Her dirty little secret, that she had been the President's mistress long before he got a divorce, was going to come out somehow. And then what? How would the world view her? Would she be ostracized? Cast out from "respectable" society?

And then there was the issue of race, America's own dirty little secret. Olivia knew how ruthless and nasty the media could be, especially at the first whiff of anything involving sex and a politician. Add in the element of race, and she knew that the media would come up with their own tawdry and sordid story line to fill in the blanks if they found the truth less than scintillating. Would she be reduced to a stereotype and labeled as the black Jezebel temptress who had entrapped and bewitched a formerly "happily married" white man to leave his "devoted wife" of 20 years? She could already see the headlines and anticipate the code words the media would use to make it seem like she was the trashy slut who had stolen the First Lady's husband and ruined a presidency. Her memory briefly flashed back to that time when Cyrus, in a fit of anger, had called her "the president's whore."

The truth was complex with numerous shades of grey, but in the 24-hour news cycle where everything got reduced to a snappy soundbite and 140 characters or less, she knew it was highly unlikely that there would be nuance in any of the reporting that would eventually come out.

The day of reckoning was coming for Olivia and it remained an open question - would she be able to handle it? She shuddered to think about it. She was truly at the outer limits of her normal comfort zone.

All of these thoughts were swirling in Olivia's head as she drove up to Camp David. The French president François Bertrand and his wife Margaux were in the United States on a special trip and Fitz had invited the couple to spend the weekend with him and Olivia at Camp David. Olivia had met the couple roughly 18 months earlier and she was eager to see them again, especially the wife.

Margaux had been François' mistress before he divorced his wife to marry her. She had had a very high profile and successful career as a TV journalist before her marriage to Francois. In a lot of ways, Margaux's life mirrored Olivia's own, with plenty of similarities. Now here she was, sitting on the patio and enjoying a glass of fine wine with the French First Lady.

"I think you would've made a great First Lady," Margaux said with a knowing smile.

"Who me? No way," Olivia said, blushing. "I love my career too much. I don't crave the spotlight."

"But you see, there you are wrong, I think," Margaux said in her unconventional English. "You are a fixer, no? You help people and people trust you. They seek you out. If you were First Lady, you could help millions of people."

Olivia didn't immediately respond. "Well, fortunately, I will never have to worry about that because Fitz is not running for re-election."

"And then what?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Pres. Grant is only 50 years old. So what will you do after he leaves office?"

"We'll go be normal people," Olivia said.

_"Normal people?"_ Margaux laughed. "Why on earth would you ever want to be normal? Normal is ordinary. Normal is boring. You Americans are funny. Never satisfied with what you already have. Constantly striving for more of what you don't have."

Olivia was offended. "You don't know me and you don't know Fitz, so please, don't judge our choices."

"I'm not judging you, simply making an observation," Margaux said gently. "The man that you love is soon to be the former president of the most powerful country on Earth. He's only 50. That's way too young to retire and never be seen or heard from again."

"So what are you saying?"

"I'm saying don't be naïve. He's going to need another challenge. From what I know of his biography, he sets a goal, accomplishes it and then moves on to the next goal. Navy pilot. Harvard Law, California Attorney General. California Governor. President of the United States. You.

_"Me?"_

"Yes, you. You are probably his greatest accomplishment in a lot of ways. Everyone, including him, thought your relationship was an improbable impossibility, and now look at you. Facing the odds and beating them."

"So, what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that Pres. Grant has achieved his goal of capturing your heart. He is a restless soul. He will need another challenge," Margaux said.

Olivia said nothing and took another sip of wine from her glass. She continued to look straight ahead avoiding Margaux's glance.

Margaux continued. "I was Francois' mistress for 10 years before he left his wife and married me. Ten years. I thought everything would be perfect once we married and I was willing to wait for him. But marriage is just another stage in a relationship. It's not a final destination. Things will change between the two of you. My advice to you is don't limit him."

"Limit him? You forget that I was the person that got him elected?"

"Exactly. And that's part of the reason why he fell in love with you. Your ability to move mountains."

"So what exactly are you saying?"

"I'm saying allow him to find a new challenge. Don't stifle him. You say you both want to be normal. But that isn't true. Normal is ordinary and neither one of you are that. You are both extraordinary people. Do you think Pres. Grant would've given up the presidency if you had been his wife?"

"Of course not!"

"Well this is what I mean. He's given up his dream to be with you. If you're not vigilant, something else will rise to replace it. Just make sure it's something else and not someone else."

A chill ran down Olivia's spine. She most definitely didn't like the way this conversation was going. She put her wine glass back on the glass tabletop and leaned in and looked directly at the French First Lady. "Marguax, why are you speaking to me like this?"

"Because I've already lost François," she said, emotion coloring her voice.

An awkward silence descended and then enveloped the two women. Olivia was confronting an uncomfortable truth. What if Margaux was right? Would building a life with her bore Fitz? Would he wind up cheating on her too?

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_A/N: That little tête-à-tête between Olivia and Margaux didn't go exactly as Olivia had planned. Do you agree with Margaux? Do powerful men like Fitz need to have a constant challenge in order to feel fulfilled and happy? Meanwhile, Olivia's ambivalence about being in a high-profile relationship is beginning to rise to the surface. She just can't seem to shake that. On one hand, she wants a life with Fitz but then on the other hand she also doesn't want her professional life to change. But something is going to have to give. _

_**Next update in less than 12 hours. ****Thanks for reading and reviewing!** _

**_p.s. Find me on Twitter at NeoScandal. _**


	26. Dumb & Dumber

_**A/N: **You guys left some great comments on the last chapter. Thank you! Your unwavering faith and complete trust in Fitz is truly admirable. I hope he can live up to it. :) Don't worry, I'm not going to mess his character up. Fitz is in good hands. (wink)  
_

_ In this update, we check in with Billy Chambers and Gideon Wallace. Both of them are still up to no good. No surprise there.**  
**_

**Chapter 25: Dumb and Dumber**

_"Where's that info you promised me?"_

"I told you before, don't call me at this number! If if it ever came out that I was feeding you information, I would get fired or maybe even worse!" hissed Billy Chambers into the phone.

"Look, I've been more than patient with you," replied Gideon Wallace. "I've held off on publishing what I know because you've promised me much juicier details to come. But my editor is breathing down my neck now. A lot of other reporters are sniffing around and it's just a matter of time before somebody else breaks the story as to who the President's mistress is."

"Well, that's your problem, not mine," Billy replied. "Pres. Grant has already said he's not seeking reelection, so I've already gotten what I wanted. You can go pound sand."

"So, it's like that, huh?" Gideon asked angrily. "You plan to cut me off just like that? No more info? Well, if you think this story is done, you're sadly mistaken. The public has a right to know and the media is going to continue to pursue this and look for multiple angles to cover."

"Like I said already, I don't care. At this point, I don't give a flying fuck who Grant is sleeping with. He's already a goner."

There was silence on the other end. Billy could hear Gideon typing away on a computer keyboard. "Hey, did you hear what I just said?" Billy snapped.

"Yeah, I heard you," Gideon replied. "Check your email. I just sent you something you're gonna wanna hear and then tell me if you want to reconsider what you just told me."

Billy sucked his teeth and opened his email account. He clicked on the message from Gideon. Inside was an attachment, a mp3 file. He downloaded and played it. An immediate chill ran up his spine as soon as the audio started to play. It was a voicemail that Billy had received from Farheed Davi about a year and a half ago.

_"You rat bastard, where the fuck did you get this?!"_ Billy spat into the phone.

Gideon chuckled. "Do I need to remind you who I work for? My newspaper is owned by Rupert Murdoch's News Media Corp. and as you know, my employer has an unbelievable knack for hacking into people's cell phones and email accounts. Now, I was hoping I wouldn't have to go this far to get your cooperation, but you've left me no other choice but to…."

Billy interrupted him. "Do you realize that you're playing with my life here? _**My goddamn life!**_"

"Chambers, you should be rotting in jail right now for what you did to Olivia Pope and what you tried to do to Pres. Grant, you traitorous fuck," Gideon spat into the phone. "In fact, I've got enough to publicly burn you and to get you indicted for treason and for conspiring with a sworn enemy of the United States. And do you know what they do to traitors like you, Chambers? They lock them up in a maximum security prison and throw away the key. Now, if you don't want this voicemail from Farheed Davi asking you for personal info about Olivia Pope to get out, you better start cooperating with me, _**NOW!**_"

"Look, that was a mistake," Billy said, panicking. "Farheed Davi tricked me. I didn't know what he was truly doing until it was too late."

"Yeah, right," Gideon snarled sarcastically. "Save the sob story for the judge. I've got multiple voicemails from Davi proving that you were the White House mole feeding him info. Now, give me what I want and your name and your part in Olivia Pope's kidnapping stays out of the news for good."

"If I continue to help you now, how do I know that you won't still burn me down the line once you get everything you want?" Billy asked.

"You don't," came the curt reply. "That's just the chance you're going to have to take."

"You cocksucking son of a bitch!" Billy hissed.

"Yeah, well, you should know," Gideon replied. "It takes one to know one. You've got 48 hours to get me that info I asked you for before about Olivia Pope spending the night at Blair House, because if you don't, I'm going to forward this audio file to Cyrus Beene by this time Monday."

_**Click.** _The line went dead.

Billy slammed the phone down. Gideon had him between a rock and a hard place. Yeah, Billy would get Gideon that confirmation he wanted and then he'd find a way to take care of that asshole Gideon Wallace once and for all.

* * *

_**A/N: The updates are going to be coming fast and furious over the next few days. Sign up for an email story alert if you don't check this site daily. Thanks for continuing to follow this story! **_


	27. A Supposedly Fun Thing

**A/N:** **Apologies** upfront **and thank you** for the recent comments, feedback, tweets and private messages. My intention was to have posted multiple chapters this week but a tree fell on top of me. Not a real tree, but **_THE TREE_**. Those of you who have seen the Season 2 promo with Fitz and Liv making out against a tree, know what I'm talking about. :) Anyway, after I saw that promo, my writing muse totally left me. Shonda Rhimes is going to blow our minds in Season 2 and part of me now wants to wait and see what happens before finishing my story. But no, I will plow forward. My story line is completely unrelated to what we're going to see on TV, so I don't want to leave this story sitting around unfinished for a few weeks while we see where Season 2 goes.

Now on to this latest update. **Spoiler alert: this is a heavy chapter**. Some might say it's downright preachy. I know fan fic is supposed to be fun and entertaining escapism and I hate to be a Debbie Downer the day after the astonishingly brilliant Season 2 premiere, but I felt like I had to "go there" and tackle the issue of race somewhere in this story.

It's kind of an unpleasant reality that if a white middle-aged POTUS left his white wife for his young, black girlfriend, there would be a major public outcry. I felt like I had to address this in some way, even though it is such a loaded and politically charged subject, because I've tried to make this story seem like it is rooted somewhat in reality. Anyway, just giving you fair warning that there will be no Olitz loving in this chapter, so feel free to skip this update if the topic is too heavy and depressing, especially after last night's unexpectedly uplifting and very sweet _"I hate you"_ scene.

Also, I never mentioned it before because it was neither important nor relevant, but when I originally created the character of CIA Director Cameron Reynolds, I envisioned him as a black man. My dream casting would be Idris Elba. Wouldn't it be incredible to see Idris and Tony Goldwyn costarring in something together? Anyway, picture Idris as Cam and Tony as Fitz and you'll see what I saw in my mind's eye when I wrote this chapter.

One more bit of background related to this chapter: If you don't know who Sarah "Sally" Hemings is, you can read all about her on Wikipedia. Just do a Google search for the names "Sally Hemings and Thomas Jefferson."

OK, if you're still reading this and haven't abandoned this page yet, thanks! Now, on to our story.

* * *

**Chapter 26: A Supposedly Fun Thing We'll Never Do Again**

"Set the timer on your watch and let's see how many suicide sprints we can do in two minutes."

CIA Director Cameron Reynolds raised an eyebrow and gave the POTUS a look that said, _"you've got to be kidding."_ It was Friday, 6:30 a.m., and Cam felt like he had already been up for 12 hours. His jersey was soaked and sweat was dripping off his face as though a faucet had been turned on. Meanwhile his hamstrings were beginning to cramp up and his heart was hammering in his chest as he panted to catch his breath.

When the POTUS had called him the night before and said he wanted to skip their weekly basketball game and do an outdoor workout instead, Cam had not expected this. They had already run five miles at a 7-minute mile pace. Now the President wanted to cap things off with a series of wind sprints on a high school football field. Cam, who had served in the military just like Fitz, felt like he was back in boot camp basic training with Fitz as his drill sergeant.

"Mr. President," Cam panted, "would you mind telling me what I did to deserve this punishment? Because that's exactly what this is - punishment."

"C'mon, Cam. Don't be such a pussy. You can do this," Fitz said. "Ready?"

Two minutes later, both Fitz and Cam were doubled over gagging and struggling to catch their breath. The suicide sprints had lived up to their name. A Secret Service agent jogged over to them and handed them both towels and bottles of water. Neither man was able to speak, they were so out of breath. Fitz, still bent over with his hands on his knees, motioned with his head to the agent to throw the items on the ground next to them.

_"Keep….walking….around,"_ Cam panted. _"Need…to bring…heart….rate….down…slowly"_

Fitz raised up to a full standing position and began to slowly walk around. His heart was still pounding in his chest and his lungs were on fire. But he was thankful for the pain because for two minutes it had replaced the dull ache that had been building up inside his heart ever since that stupid Gideon Wallace article naming Olivia as his longtime mistress and current girlfriend had appeared driving a wedge between them.

Gideon's story unleashed the rest of the media mob and was followed by a slew of stories in other news outlets about Olivia and her relationship with the president. One article in particular, entitled _"Is Olivia Pope the new Sally Hemings?"_ had set Olivia on edge and had put both of them in a very foul mood. Although Olivia kept saying that she was fine, she seemed to be acting slightly distant toward him.

Race had never been an issue for them before and Fitz was increasingly alarmed that the media was making the fact that they were an interracial couple an issue, as though the color of their skin was somehow important or indicative of some deeper pathology. The Sallie Hemings piece in the New Yorker tried to disguise itself as a sophisticated treatise on race relations in America, but instead felt like classic tabloid, hit-and-run journalism, designed to spike web traffic and sell magazines. It was a stupid, petty article.

Cam picked up a bottle of water and tossed it to Fitz who caught it. He opened it and gulped down the cold, refreshing liquid. The two men walked over to the bleachers and sat down. After the intense workout, the coolness of the morning air felt good.

"So, Mr. President, now would you tell me what's really bothering you?" Cam asked.

Fitz, looking straight ahead, gave a bitter chuckle and said, "Is it that obvious?"

"Yes. A five mile run followed by suicide sprints. Yeah, I'd say something is definitely bothering you."

"Cam, I need to speak honestly with you, as a friend, not as your boss."

"Of course, Mr. President."

"This is personal, so I need you to call me by my name. I need your advice, as a friend."

"OK…_Fitz_," Cam replied. It felt strange. Yes, he did feel like he had a close relationship with Fitz but he was so used to calling him "Mr. President," that it suddenly felt odd calling him by his first name.

"You know about that stupid 'Olivia Pope as Sally Hemings' story that ran in the New Yorker recently, right?"

Cam rolled his eyes and responded in the affirmative. "That was a piece of trash. Totally ridiculous."

"Yeah, I know, but it's messed with Olivia's mind," Fitz said quietly. "It's really bothering her and she won't talk to me about it."

Cam let out a heavy sigh and looked up at the sky. He knew what was coming next, and to be quite honest this was a conversation he wasn't eager to have, especially not with the President of the United States. As a black man who had grown up in a small one traffic light town in Georgia, Cam had dealt with racism and the stereotypes about blacks for as long as he could remember. It had been instilled in him from childhood that if he was going to make it, he'd have to work twice as hard as a white man. As a teenager, Cam won a full academic scholarship to Philips Academy in Andover, Massachusetts, and the experience completely changed his life and his mindset. He went from a religiously conservative rural Southern town and was dropped into a socially liberal, lily white, wealthy New England environment where his classmates got BMWs or Mercedes as birthday presents and spent their winter break vacations either skiing in Whistler, Canada or tanning in St. Barts.

Cam understood the politics of race because he lived it. Unlike other high profile blacks working in Washington, like Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas, Cam Reynolds wasn't ashamed to be black. But it was a wee bit tiresome to always be the go-to guy on matters of race with his white friends.

"I know why she's upset," Cam said quietly.

"Yeah, I know why too," Fitz responded.

"You do? Do you really?" Cam asked with surprise.

"Well, I think I do," Fitz said slowly. He was beginning to feel a little embarrassed. He needed to speak honestly with Cam but he didn't want him to think poorly of him or to view him as some clueless jerk who went around saying _"some of my best friends are black"_ as a way of proving something. He truly respected and admired Cam. In fact, he'd say that at this point of his life, Cam was the closest thing he had to a best friend. He trusted him. After all, back when Olivia had been kidnapped, Cam was the one person who worked behind the scenes and gave Fitz the air cover he needed to order the rescue mission without causing an international incident.

Although Cam had been caught off guard and was initially very surprised by the depth of Fitz's feelings for Olivia, he never judged him or treated him differently as a result. He just accepted it and never questioned it. Cam lived his own life by a strong moral code of conduct, so to him infidelity was a huge no. But he knew he couldn't judge other people's life choices. That said, Cam considered Olivia Pope a tremendous catch – she was both stunningly beautiful and unbelievably brilliant. Cam privately thought that Fitz was a very lucky man to have her.

"So, Mr. President, excuse me, I mean, Fitz, what exactly is it that you think you know about why Olivia is upset by the Sally Hemings article?" Cam asked.

"Well, it brings up a whole sordid chapter of American history. But it's irrelevant and the comparison is beyond ridiculous. Everyone who knows Liv knows that she's my equal. Hell, she's my better."

"You know that and I know that, but the world doesn't know that. Society doesn't view her that way and that's the problem," Cam said. "Look, I don't know Olivia personally but I know and have known plenty of black women like her. She's strong, fiercely independent and very intelligent. She's excelled at everything she has set her mind to. She is not a stereotype. She defies stereotypes."

Cam looked at Fitz to see how he was reacting to what he was saying. Fitz had his head down but he was obviously listening intently, so Cam continued.

"With one article, some so-called journalist has taken an axe to Olivia's reputation and has essentially marginalized her, reduced her down to nothing more than a stereotype, as a victim, a powerless black woman who is being led around, controlled and taken advantage of by you."

"But it's not true!" Fitz protested. "This whole damn thing is completely ludicrous!"

"I know, but you're letting your male privilege blind you to what's really going on here," Cam continued. "You have to be open to see things from Olivia's perspective. As an African American female, she's had to combat the dual stereotypes of both race and gender. There are things about her that people will say about her, that they will think about her, that they will assume about her that they would never, ever in a million years say or assume about you, not even in jest."

"Things like…" Fitz began.

"Things like she got into Stanford Law because of affirmative action, or that she used sex to entrap you. Or they'll describe her assertiveness and determination as being angry, uppity or aggressive. Or that…"

"OK, OK, I get it," Fitz said, a tone of resignation in his voice. Fitz knew that he had been living in a bubble of denial. He knew how the world worked but his tendency had always been to be optimistic, to give people the benefit of the doubt, so he had wanted to believe that American society was above all this garbage. But listening to Cam, Fitz knew that what he was saying was on point and that if he was to have a healthy relationship with Olivia he needed to confront these issues and be willing to talk about them.

Cam saw that Fitz was mulling over everything he had just said. He took a long sip from his bottle of water and looked straight ahead. He felt like he had said enough and should just shut up now. He pulled the towel he had hanging around his neck and wiped his face.

Fitz finally spoke. "I really wanted to believe that race wasn't going to be an issue. We're in the 21st-century, for God's sake! It's unbelievable that society is still getting hung up on these things."

Cam let out a heavy sigh. "You've got to realize that you and Olivia together, in a very public and very high profile relationship, is a threat to some people's worldview. When she was your mistress…"

"Cam, I hate that word," Fitz interrupted. "I've never considered Olivia my mistress."

"OK, sorry, well when you and Olivia were undercover, people could dismiss it, say it was just about sex, an infatuation," Cam continued apologetically. "Now you've put her front and center. You've told the world that she's the most important woman to you, so important that you're willing to give up everything to be with her. For a lot of people, what you've done is radical, subversive and traitorous."

"Traitorous? That's a little harsh, isn't it?" Fitz asked.

"No, it isn't," Cam replied. "Go into any working class bar in Howard Beach, Queens or in South Boston and see if they don't call you a traitor to your race for taking up with a black woman."

Fitz shook his head.

"So, Cam, what do I do? How do I make sure I don't screw things up with her?"

Cam took a long sip from his bottle of water before answering. "Be honest. Just be honest," he said. "Admit you don't know all the answers. Don't try to gloss over stuff. Address things head on, otherwise stuff like this will pile up, resentment will build, and you'll wake up one morning and realize that somewhere along the way the two of you stopped talking to one another."

Fitz looked at Cam. His mind had been effectively blown by the conversation he had just had with his CIA Director. Although the conversation had gotten very heavy, he was glad that they had had it. There was no one else, other than Olivia, he would've trusted to have had this conversation with.

"You know if anyone had told me that there would come a day that I'd be taking relationship advice from the Director of the CIA, I would've laughed at them," Fitz said, slapping Cam on the back.

"Well, the first half-hour of advice is free. After that, I'm going to have to charge you," Cam replied with a smile.

"How about I buy you breakfast, instead?" Fitz said, waving over one of the Secret Service agents standing next to the presidential SUV. The agent opened the passenger side and came jogging over with two bags from McDonald's. When Cam saw what the agent was bringing over, he laughed.

The two men sat on the bleachers and dug into their sausage and egg McMuffins. Two regular guys just enjoying a simple Mickey D's breakfast. Life was good.

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_**A/N: If you've read all the way to the end, thanks! The next chapter won't be so heavy. Promise!**_


	28. Political Theater

_**A/N:** Thank you to everyone who hung in there and posted reviews on the last chapter. I really appreciate it! This update is very short and is a transitional chapter as we check in on Cyrus. No Olitz. We'll find out what they've been up to in the next update._

**Chapter 27: Political Theater**

_**HA! HA! HA! HA!**_ Cyrus Beene's big booming laugh filled the Capital Grille restaurant. He was meeting with Skip Burroughs, the chairman of the Republican National Committee, and the two men were reminiscing about old times fighting in the political trenches.

"So, Cy, all kidding aside, how are you doing these days? Now that Grant is history, will you be moving over to work for Sally Langston?" Burroughs asked, reaching across the table to grab the bread basket.

"Nope," Cyrus said cheerfully, as he jabbed a fork into his plate of shrimp scampi. "Let's just say that Langston and I are incompatible. She represents a brand of Conservatism that I can never get behind."

"Where does that leave you, Cy? You're a master at national politics. Are you really planning to ride off into the sunset after Grant leaves office? Surely you've got, at least, another four-year presidential term in you," Burroughs replied.

"Well, you got that part right," Cyrus said, smiling. "I'm not ready to retire, nor am I looking to retire."

"So, what exactly are you saying?"

"I'm saying it ain't over 'till it's over, and from where I sit, it ain't over."

Skip Burroughs looked at Cyrus with a puzzled look. "OK, you lost me. Plain English, please."

"Fitzgerald Thomas Grant is President of the United States. I fought long and hard to get him to this position. He is capable of being a two-term president."

"But Cy the man has announced he's not going to seek re-election. The Republican Party needs to appoint a new leader, and Sally Langston is the most obvious and appropriate candidate."

"That's where you're wrong, Skip. Sally Langston _**is not**_ the most appropriate politician to lead the GOP. You and I both know that Langston is a far right wing fruitcake. She'll take this country back to the 1950s, if she gets into power."

"Yeah, I know, I'm worried about that too," Burroughs replied. "Langston can not win Ohio and Florida, and Pennsylvania is a wild card. Her brand of political religious conservatism plays well in the South and Southwest, but will be a hard sell in other parts of the country."

"And not only that," Cy interrupted, "it looks like the Democrats are either going to nominate that young black senator from Illinois or the former First Lady Helena McClintock. Regardless of who the Democrats finally go with, they'll have the media on their side and plenty of excitement in their campaign. Think about it, either the first black or a former first lady as a major party's presidential nominee. It will be huge."

"OK, Cy, so, I'll ask you again. What exactly is it that you're saying here?" Burroughs probed.

"I'm saying that if the Republican Party wants to win in November, they've got to back a winning horse. A horse that has a track record of winning. A horse that has already won," Cyrus said with a smug grin.

Burroughs put down his knife and fork and wiped his mouth. Was he hearing what he thought he was hearing?

"Cy, stop toying with me. Are you saying there's a chance that Grant might change his mind and decide to seek reelection?

"Well, Skip, this is where you come in," Cyrus replied with a smile.

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**_A/N: Camera pans wide. Screen fades to black and we're left to wonder, what on earth is Cyrus planning? What did he end up saying to Skip? Oooooo, the tension is killing even me! LOL!_**


	29. I Know Why the Caged Bird Screams, Pt 1

**Chapter 28: I Know Why the Caged Bird Screams**

"…_.and in today's forecast, storm clouds are brewing over the Carolinas. The National Weather Center reports that a slow-moving tropical cyclone is approaching North and South Carolina and could dump a lot of rain on Virginia and Washington D.C. this weekend. The storm could make landfall by…" **click.**_

Olivia turned off the TV and put the remote down. She took one last look around the apartment and let out a heavy sigh. She wasn't sure when she'd be back in light of everything that had recently happened. She picked up her handbag and rolled her suitcase to the door. She put on her white Tory Burch trench coat and donned a pair of Jackie O type sunglasses and left.

**_Meanwhile, on Air Force One, somewhere over the Pacific _**

The week-long trade mission to China and Southeast Asia had been a grueling trip filled with 15-hour days consisting of back-to-back meetings, site visits, press conferences and photo ops. Fitz was exhausted and looking forward to getting back to D.C. to seeing his kids and Olivia again. _God, how I miss her_, Fitz thought. He licked his lips and a small smile began to emerge on his face as he thought of Olivia and what he planned to do with her and do to her once they were together again. Next overseas trip, Olivia was coming with him, Fitz decided. No ifs, ands or buts.

He could have really used her counsel on this trip after that disastrous meeting with Hu Jintao, the Chinese president. The whole long distance thing, calling at what were odd hours of the day back in the U.S., was just too jarring. They were out of sync, time zone wise, and in the last 36 hours he had been unable to get in touch with her.

Fitz and his team were flying back to the U.S. on Air Force One, somewhere over the Pacific Ocean, when he tried calling her again from the air. His call went directly into voicemail. He called her apartment. Same thing, voicemail. Fitz tapped his fingers on the desk. Was it time for him to be worried? After all it had only been a day and a half since they had last spoken, not really all that long. But he had a feeling that something was wrong. Terribly wrong. His spidey sense was giving him a vibe that something wasn't right.

**_A week earlier, somewhere in midtown Manhattan _**

"These photos are legit. Last chance. You want them or not?"

Guido Manzetti, a fat slimy-haired middle-aged man, looked across his cluttered desk at the person seated in front of him. Manzetti operated a photo agency for paparazzi and from time to time candid photos of some famous person would wind up on his desk. The people who took the photos, even the amateurs, always wanted a massive payday. Sometimes Manzetti paid, sometimes he didn't. It all depended on the celeb, the type of photo and whether or not some media outlet like People magazine or The National Enquirer would be willing to buy it. No use in Manzetti buying a photo if there was no publication or gossip blog willing to pay him a high enough price to acquire it.

"I need to know the source. Where'd you get these?" asked Manzetti, flipping through the stack of snapshots.

"Look, you can see these photos are of the real thing. If you don't want them, I'm sure I can find some other takers," snapped the person reaching across to grab the photos.

"Whoa, not so fast!" Manzetti said, clamping a thick, pudgy hand down on top of the other person's. "Haven't you ever negotiated over anything before? That's what this is - a negotiation."

The other person wiggled their hand free from under Manzetti's clammy palm.

"Well, I will say, this Olivia Pope is a fine piece of ass," Manzetti said admiring the photos of Olivia wearing nothing but her underwear. "Pres. Grant is one lucky bastard."

"So, what's it gonna be?" said the other person.

"I'll take them," Manzetti replied.

"For how much?"

"I'll give you 20K," Manzetti said, calculating in his head that he would be able to easily get $250,000, at a minimum, when he tried to sell them to the tabloids.

"Gimme 100 grand and you've got a deal," said the other person.

Manzetti gulped. That was a ton of money to pay for some soft porn girly shots of the President's lady. But he knew if he didn't come up with the cash, the person sitting across from him would find someone else who would.

"I'll give you 50," Manzetti said.

"75."

"Sold," Manzetti replied, scooping up the photos and putting them into a plastic folder.

* * *

**_A/N: OK, this was part of a much longer chapter that I've decided to split in half. The second half is done but I want to tinker with it a bit more before posting. Hope to get that up by Tuesday, at the latest. Just for kicks, tell me who do you think is selling racy photos of Liv?  
_**

**_As always, thank you for reading and reviewing!_**


	30. I Know Why the Caged Bird Screams, Pt 2

**A/N: **_There were some really good guesses in the reviews for the last chapter. But my lips are still sealed about who was behind those racy pix of Olivia. :) _**  
**

_**I appreciate and adore every single one of my readers. Without you guys, I would've thrown in the towel weeks ago** because writing isn't always easy. But today I would like to give **a special shout-out** to a few readers in particular:  
_

_To **Dettylover**, who has followed this story from the very beginning, (going all the way back to June!) and has been very encouraging and supportive of my writing at every step along the way. Thank you!  
_

_ To **Kammie**, who I think must've pulled an all-nighter last weekend reading my Scandal stories as shown by the multiple reviews she left over a 24-hour time period. (Awesome! Thanks!)_

_To **PiscesChikk**, my writing comrade. Remind me again why we write fan fic? Oh, yeah, because WE LOVE IT! :)  
_

_To **InspiredToRead**, whose always humorous Tumblr [seriouslywtflady DOT tumbler DOT com] should be required daily reading for any Scandal fanatic. You is kind. You is smart. You is important. (Sorry, I couldn't resist! :)  
_

_To **CarolineSparrow,** who lives in Poland but tweets her love for Scandal at all hours of the day.  
_

_To **LimePalmTree, Chocolate1 and MsChessPlayer**, who all generously write reviews on multiple stories on this site.  
_

_And to **Juicyj28,** who is just as in love with my version of Fitz as I am! LOL. _

_Yes, to me, Fitz is sex on a stick. And in this chapter we get Angry Fitz. Yay!  
_

* * *

**Chapter 29: I Know Why the Caged Bird Screams, Part 2**

When Fitz made it back to the White House, he headed directly to the Oval Office even though it was late afternoon. When he entered, he found his iPad on his desk. He had accidentally left it behind when he went on his trip to Asia. "Oh, there it is!" he exclaimed, picking up the gadget. The iPad was his lifeline to the outside world, a quick and easy way for him to keep tabs on the news without the filter of Cyrus or his press secretary. It was also his favorite gadget to unwind with in the evenings since he could listen to music, watch movies and read books on it. He had been without it for a whole week.

His finger glided across the screen to wake the machine. When it flickered on, he almost dropped the device. There on the screen was a photo of Olivia in her lingerie. And then another and another. What initially began as arousal for Fitz turned into alarm as he realized that the photos he was viewing were not private but were actually part of a slideshow on a gossip blog. The headline said "A Presidential Booty Call."

_"Aw shit!"_ Fitz muttered under his breath. He grabbed his phone and punched in the extension for Cyrus' office. "Get in here. Now."

Fitz's mind began racing as he reviewed the photos again. _Where in the hell did these pictures come from?_ he thought. They weren't professional because the quality wasn't great. However, Olivia was posing in them. They looked like they had been taken on a camera phone. So who took them? When? And how did these photos wind up on some blog? He had so many questions but the immediate answer that sprang to his mind was that his ex-wife had to be involved somehow.

_Mellie! Mellie is behind this!_ Fitz thought. _I swear to God, I'm going to kill her if I find out she had anything, anything at all to do with this._

At that moment, Cy entered the Oval Office.

"Cy, we have a serious problem," Fitz snapped, shoving the iPad into Cyrus' hands. "There's a leak. Someone here in the White House has been deliberately feeding info to the press about Olivia and I've about had enough of this bullshit!"

"I know."

"What do you mean, you know? You knew about these photos?" Fitz asked.

"Yes. I mean, no. I mean, yes," Cy stammered.

"Cyrus Beene, you better start talking. Now." Fitz said angrily.

"I was aware of these photos two days ago when they were first published," Cyrus said.

**_"YOU KNEW AND YOU SAID NOTHING TO ME?!_"** Fitz roared.

"Mr. President, do I need to remind you that you were on a trade mission on behalf of the United States? That you were trying to nail down a new trade agreement with China that could create new jobs for Americans and help grow the U.S. economy? The negotiations with the Chinese president were going badly. I knew if I told you about this situation with the tabloid photos that it would only distract you."

"Distract me?! _**DISTRACT ME?!**_" Fitz thundered. "Cy, I am not a child. I am the goddamn President of the United States! I am capable of handling multiple pieces of information at a time. You should've told me about this! When will you get it through that thick skull of yours that when it comes to Olivia, she always comes first. _Always._ She is my top priority. Don't you ever, ever, _EVER_ assume that you know best when it comes to Olivia. Do you hear me?"

"Mr. President, there's something else," Cyrus said quietly.

"What? What could be worse than this?" Fitz asked angrily.

"Olivia. She's gone."

"What do you mean, gone?" Fitz looked at Cyrus, confused, as though he were speaking in a foreign language.

"She's gone into hiding sir. We don't know where she is," Cyrus said.

"Get out."

"Sir, I think that…"

**"GET OUT! GET OUT OF MY OFFICE! _NOW!"_**

Cyrus walked quickly backwards and left the Oval Office. Fitz was livid. His face had turned beet red and steam was coming out of his ears. He sat down and in a fit of rage he angrily swiped his arm across the desk sending everything crashing to the floor.

Mrs. Hanley, the president's secretary, came rushing into the room. "Mr. President! Is everything alright?" the elderly lady asked in a frightened voice. She had never ever seen the president this angry before and when she caught the look of ire in his eye, it gave her chills. Although she knew that Pres. Grant wasn't a violent man prone to angry outbursts, in that moment she knew that he was in such a state that he might very well kill somebody.

"Get me Ryan Bishop. _Now!"_

"Yes, sir."

A minute later. _"Ryan Bishop, on line one, sir."_

"Bishop, hello, Pres. Grant here. Sorry for the impromptu call but there seems to be a situation developing with Ms. Pope. Do you..." Fitz cleared his throat, "do you happen to know her current location?"

There was a pause on the other end. Fitz could tell that Bishop was hesitating.

_"Yes, sir,"_ finally came the reply.

"Good. So, where is she?"

_"Sir…"_

_"_Bishop..."

"_Mr. President, I can assure you that Ms. Pope is safe."_

"That's good and I'm greatly relieved to hear that, but that's not the question I asked you," Fitz said with steel in his voice. "Now, I'm going to ask you again and you are going to answer me truthfully because I am the President of the United States and it would be extremely unwise of you to defy me."

_"Yes, sir."_

"Where is Ms. Pope?"

_"She's on the Outer Banks in North Carolina, sir."_

"The Outer Banks? What? What the hell is she doing down there?"

_"Her friend Abby Whelan owns a house down there and Ms. Pope has decided to go there to get away from the media."_

Fitz sat down in his chair, bent his head down and raked a hand through his hair, while still holding the phone to his ear.

"Is she alone?"

_"No, Ms. Whelan is there with her,"_ came the reply.

Fitz let out a breath. "OK, email my secretary the address and phone number of the house. And you'll continue to keep a close eye on her."

_"Yes, sir."_

"And Bishop…"

_"Yes sir?"_

"Thank you."

_"You're welcome, sir."_

* * *

_**A/N: OK, another mini cliffhanger. I know, I'm so mean. I like torturing you guys! Next update within 24 hours! Thanks for reading and reviewing! ** _


	31. We Can Make the World Stop

**Chapter 30: We Can Make the World Stop**

When the phone rang, Abby and Olivia were getting ready to sit down and have dinner. Abby got the phone and then handed it to Olivia.

"It's for you."

Olivia grimaced and grabbed the cordless phone. She knew who was at the other end.

"Hello."

"Hi. It's me," Fitz said softly. "How are you?"

"OK."

"Liv, I've been worried sick about you. You've been ignoring my phone calls and messages."

"I know. I'm sorry," Olivia responded, getting up from the dining room table. She looked over at Abby who rolled her eyes and made a face. Olivia walked out of the dining room to get some privacy.

"Liv, talk to me."

"I can't…I can't…I can't say…." she softly sighed, walking down the hall to the guest bedroom where she was staying. She entered the room and closed the door.

"Liv, it's me. You can talk to me. Tell me," Fitz said gently.

"Those photos of me, I feel…I feel so violated and humiliated," she finally said. "I knew this was going to happen or something like this was going to happen. Hell, even your father predicted this was going to happen. But now that it is happening, I'm not sure I can..."

"You're not sure you can what?" Fitz asked, his stomach clenching, as he feared what she might say next.

"I'm not sure I can do this," she said quietly as she caught her reflection in the bedroom's full-length mirror. "Have you thought about what our life is going to be like after you leave office in a few months?"

Fitz looked up at the ceiling and exhaled sharply.

"Your legacy is destroyed and my professional reputation is ruined," Olivia continued. "I'll have to go into a new line of work because who's going to want to hire a fixer who can't even fix her own life?"

Fitz let out a heavy sigh. Olivia was very upset, even though she was masking it well. He could tell that she was fighting hard not to cry. He just wanted to reach through the phone and hold her. Despite all her bravado when other people were around, he knew that she could be very fragile and emotionally vulnerable when it came to matters of the heart and her own personal happiness. This conversation was definitely one he didn't want to have over the phone.

"Liv, please come back to D.C. I need to see you. We shouldn't be on our own at a time like this and we definitely shouldn't be having this conversation over the phone. This is a conversation we need to have in person," Fitz said.

There was a pause.

"Liv?" Fitz asked.

"Fitz, please, please don't hate me, but I need to be alone right now," Olivia said quietly.

"Olivia, no," he said firmly. "You need to be here, back in D.C., with me," he said, getting annoyed.

"Fitz, I…"

"Look, Liv, I know you're upset. I know you're angry. I know you're frustrated. I know you're afraid. And I know the only way you're going to get past all these emotions is if you're here with me. You're not alone in this. You have to stop acting as though you're flying solo and that you're the only person who can fix this."

"Fitz, you don't think I know that already? Of course I know that once I'm back in your arms everything will seem alright. But I can't spend my entire life in your arms," she replied. "Just give me some time, OK?"

"Time? Time for what? Some time for you to concoct some new escape route out of this relationship?" Fitz asked angrily.

"I did not say that," Olivia said firmly. "That's not what I'm thinking."

"Do I need to remind you that you promised me that you would never walk out on me again? This is what you're doing. Again. Walking out on me," Fitz said, as a wave of anger began to surge through his body.

"Fitz, this is difficult, extremely difficult for me," Olivia said weakly. "The other day I found someone going through my trash. My trash! My entire personal life has been thrown out on display for the whole world to see and judge me. I feel like I've lost everything I've worked so hard to get. This is a huge adjustment for me. I not sure I can handle living under this microscope."

"You know what Liv? I'm getting sick and tired of this. If you want to stop the madness of the outside world from infecting us, we've got to start right here, right now. Put on your big girl pants and stop threatening to throw us to the curb every single time things don't go your way. This is what you signed up for. This is it! This is the shit storm that we both knew was coming. Does it suck? YES! But this is it! I can build a fortress to keep everyone out and if anyone tries to hurt you, I will tear them down. Don't you know that by now? But I need you to be there with me. I need you to be the gladiator you and your associates are always talking about. I need you to dig in your heels and fight right alongside me and not go running to the hills at the first sign of problems."

The tension between them was thick and a wall of silence greeted Fitz as soon as he finished his rant. He silently cursed himself. _Shit! Now I've done it. I've pushed her away._

But on the other end of the line, Olivia was having the complete opposite reaction. Fitz's bracing words and rant had been like having a bucket of ice cold water thrown in her face. He was right. She needed to (wo)man up and show some spine. Whatever doesn't kill you, makes you stronger and she would not be defeated by the petty, bigoted, small-minded ignorant people out there who would be more than happy to see her and Fitz split up.

Olivia finally spoke. "You did not just tell me to put on my big girl pants, did you?" she said, chuckling.

"Yes, I did. Those big ol' cotton granny panties you sometimes wear," Fitz said, smiling.

"FITZ! I can't believe you said that," she said, laughing. "How on earth…. "

"Livie, please, please, come back to D.C.," Fitz said softly, interrupting her. "Let's not argue anymore about this. I don't want to be away from you any longer."

The gentleness in his deep baritone voice felt like warm butter melting on her skin. His voice always got to her. She was powerless to refuse him whenever he spoke to her like that.

"OK, I'm coming home," she said.


	32. Storm Horizons

_A/N: Sorry for the 10-day (!) delay in updating the story. I think this is the longest I've ever gone without posting a chapter. Please go back and scan the previous chapter to refresh your memory of where the story left off. This chapter picks up right where the last one ended. Enjoy!_

**Chapter 31: Storm Horizons**

When Olivia returned to the dining room, she heard Abby puttering around in the kitchen. She walked into the kitchen to find Abby putting a plate of pasta into the microwave. She cleared her throat and Abby turned to look at her.

"So, everything alright? What did he have to say?" Abby asked.

"Is that plate for me?" Olivia asked, avoiding Abby's question. Abby, who was standing by the sink, rinsed her hands and nodded. "Yeah, you can have that, if you want," she replied. "I was about to go ahead and eat without you since I wasn't sure how long you were going to be on the phone."

Olivia yawned and nodded her head as she made her way over to the microwave and punched the pause button. Abby pulled a kitchen towel off the rack and dried her hands. Olivia's back was to her.

"So, Liv, aren't you going to tell me? What did the Leader of the Free World have to say?" Abby said a snarky tone creeping into her voice.

Olivia took a deep breath before responding. "Abby, we need to go back to D.C. tomorrow," she replied, opening up the microwave.

"Tomorrow? But we just got here! We've only been here 24 hours. The media will still be camped outside your apartment if we go back now," Abby said.

"Yeah, I know, but I've dealt with worse," Olivia said, pulling a fork out of the little cutlery basket attached to the dish rack.

"He told you to come back, didn't he? Did he order you to come back?" Abby asked.

"_Order me?" _

"Yeah, order you. He's like Tarzan. _Me, Fitz. You Liv_," Abby quipped.

"You know what, Abby? Forget I even mentioned it," Olivia said, leaning against the kitchen counter. She rubbed her temples. Abby was beginning to give her a headache. "Why don't you stay here? I'll drive myself back to D.C. No worries. Just drop me off at the rental car place in town tomorrow morning and I'll go back alone."

"He tells you to jump and you say _'how high?'_ God, Liv, when did you become that girl?"

"_That girl?_ Huh? What are you talking about?"

"That girl who sits around waiting for her boyfriend to call. That girl who drops everything at the drop of a hat to be with her boyfriend. That girl who has replaced her own hopes and dreams with that of her boyfriend. _That girl_."

"Abby, don't be ridiculous. if I didn't know better, I'd say you were a little jealous," Olivia said, twirling strands of pasta around the fork and bringing it to her mouth.

"Fitzgerald Grant is tall, handsome, rich and currently the most powerful man on Earth. He's got really big hands and feet, so I imagine he's got a well-endowed package under those custom tailored suits of his, and if I know you and your demanding perfectionist ass, I know that you wouldn't be planning to rearrange your life for a man unless he truly rocked your world consistently between the sheets. Am I jealous? Damn straight, I'm jealous! But that doesn't mean I can't see what's really going on here," Abby snapped.

"And what exactly would that be?"

"Liv, this isn't you. You aren't a damsel in distress trapped in a tower. You are a warrior. A gladiator. A slayer of dragons. You're the person who rescues the damsel in the tower, not the one who waits around to be rescued!"

"Even gladiators need someone to come home to," Olivia said annoyed as she put the piping hot plate of pasta down on the counter.

"Yeah, well, Liv, you can do better than…"

"Abby, just stop. Please stop," Olivia said, interrupting her.

"Liv, I'm just telling you like it is. Telling you how I see it."

_"AND WHO THE FUCK ASKED YOU FOR YOUR OPINION?!"_ Olivia screamed.

Abby was momentarily stunned by Olivia's sudden and profane outburst. Olivia closed her eyes and shook her head. All she had asked for was a ride to the rental car place in the morning. She did not need this sort of drama right now.

"Abby, I'm tired. So very tired. Tired of the media circus that has become my life. Tired of your judgmental ass. What I need right now is acceptance and I'm going back to D.C. to the one place where I know I can find it. With Fitz."

Then she stepped on the trashcan foot pedal, picked up the plate and threw the dinner into the trash. "I've suddenly lost my appetite. I'm going to bed."

"Liv, wait!" Abby called after her, but it was too late. Olivia was done.

* * *

_**Meanwhile, 300 miles away in D.C.**_

_**SLAM!**_

Mellie looked up from reading her book. "Oh, Fitz, you're back from China. When did you get back?"

"_You bitch!_ When will you ever stop?"

"What? What on earth are you blabbering about?" Mellie asked.

"Don't play dumb," Fitz said jamming the iPad into her hands.

Mellie looked at the screen and cackled. "Well, well, Fitz. Olivia is a real regular Playboy bunny isn't she?"

"Mel, this is low, even for you."

"What are you talking about? I didn't take these photos?"

"I don't know how you did it but I know you're responsible for these photos going public. If you are behind the release of these photos, I swear to God, I will…"

"You'll what?" Mellie hissed standing up, her eyes darkening in anger. "Are you about to threaten me, Fitz? Speak up, President Grant, I can't hear you. _They_ can't hear you," she said in a loud voice, motioning at the wall. Fitz just glared at her. "What? You don't think I know that this place is bugged? I figured it out Fitz. After you moved out, I figured out that that extensive rehab project was motivated by something other than a desire to freshen up the executive residence of the White House."

He just glared at her.

"How dare you come in here and accuse me of peddling that soft porn filth to the tabloids!" Mellie snapped. "I may no longer legally be your wife, but I am still officially the First Lady of the United States with an 80% approval rating. Here's a news flash, Fitz – I don't need to tear down Olivia Pope. She's doing a bang up job on her own without my help!"

Fitz was seething with anger but knew he better keep his emotions in check before he did something he would live to regret.

"You need to leave D.C."

"What?"

"I want you gone by the end of day tomorrow. Go to the ranch in Santa Barbara. I'll be cancelling all of your official appearances for the next 30 days."

"Wait, what? You can't do that!"

"I can and I will. I want you gone from the White House."

"If you think you can disrespect me like this, you better think again!" Mellie spat.

"Either you're gone by end of day tomorrow or I freeze your bank account and that $20 million divorce settlement goes up in smoke."

Mellie blanched. If Fitz cut off her access to money, she would be completely screwed. It was bad enough that she was divorced. The idea that she might have to scrape and borrow money from friends and family….no, she couldn't even fathom the thought.

Mellie looked at Fitz and then just nodded her head in agreement. She said nothing.

Fitz turned and walked away.

* * *

_**Next morning**_

"Sorry ma'am, but we ain't got no vehicles left," said the rental car agent. "A major storm is coming and everybody wants to get out of town before it makes land fall."

Olivia looked across the counter at the rental car agent, a young man barely out of his teens. His name badge said "Earl" and he was wearing a light blue short sleeve dress shirt with a red clip-on tie. She couldn't believe her rotten luck and how external forces continued to conspire to block her path at every turn. With everything going on her in her personal life, she had avoided watching the news over the past 48 hours. When she had left D.C. almost two days earlier, she vaguely remembered hearing a weather forecast that said a major storm was coming, but she hadn't given it too much thought. Now it appeared that this storm was going to be one more thing preventing her from getting back home.

"Is there another car rental place nearby? I really need to get back to Washington, D.C. today," Olivia said.

"Next closest place is about 5 miles from here, but I doubt you'll have much better luck," said the young man. "Everyone has the same idea - Get to higher land."

"So why are you even open?" Olivia asked, exasperated.

"Company policy," the young man replied. "Until the storm actually hits, we're required to stay open."

Olivia turned around and looked at the rental car parking lot. It was empty, except for two cars, a Ford Focus and a Kia Rio.

"What about one of those cars? Can you rent me on of those?" Olivia asked pointing over at the lot.

"No, ma'am. Both of those are out of commission. Transmission is busted on the Ford and the brakes don't work on the Kia," he replied.

Olivia puffed out her cheeks and exhaled sharply. There was a water cooler next to the seating area and she walked over and filled one of the paper cups as she thought of what her next move would be. She'd have to call Abby and ask her to come back and get her. And Fitz, gosh, he was going to be annoyed too and probably think she had changed her mind about coming home and was stalling for time. Olivia gulped down the water, balled up the paper cup and threw it in the trash and then walked out the door.

As she stood in the parking lot, she looked up at the sky. The sun was shining brightly and a light breeze was blowing. There was no indication, whatsoever, that a storm was on the horizon.

* * *

_**A/N: Next chapter posted within 24 hours, promise! Thanks for reading!  
**_


	33. Higher Ground

**Chapter 32: Higher Ground**

Fitz woke up with the most incredible hard-on. _Livvie. His Livvie_. He had been dreaming of her and woke up in this condition. He rolled over onto his back and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He looked up at the ceiling and raked his hand through his hair.

His body ached from lack of her touch.

It had been 10 days since he had last seen her. They had been able to squeeze in one lovemaking session before he had left for his economic trip to Asia, but now it had been over a week and his body had been cut off completely from Olivia's touch and now he needed to be next to her, to hold her, to be inside her. He wondered if Olivia would ever know just how much he loved her, how much he adored her and worshiped her. His desire for her was all consuming and he couldn't think straight whenever there was tension between them. Even when she pissed him off, and lord knows that happened frequently, he still wanted, no needed to be in her presence. Olivia was his drug of choice and he was happily addicted to the high being with her produced. But no, it was more than just sex. It was also the friendship, the companionship he felt when they were together. It was the wholeness he felt when they were together.

Fitz thought of Olivia and wondered what she was doing right about now. When they weren't together, did she wake up thinking of him? Did her body ache from the lack of his touch? Did she ever touch herself, while thinking of him? Fitz began to stroke his member as he imagined Liv sitting across from the bed in the overstuffed chair, one leg dangling over the side. She was wearing an antique white silk babydoll set with a thong underneath. In his mind's eye he saw Liv's hand sweep across her thigh and then go between her legs where it began to slowly move back and forth, up and down, around and around her mound. Fitz's cock twitched as the scene playing out in his head became more erotic. Her legs spread open a little wider giving him a better view of exactly what she was doing down there. Two fingers had pushed aside the fabric of the thong and had slid inside her sticky, hot core. Olivia's eyes were closed and from her slightly open mouth escaped sweet little moans of delight as her fingers pleasured her clit.

Fitz's large hand held his thick penis in a full fist grip. All of his fingers and his thumb were wrapped tightly around his engorged rod and they began to work in unison to stroke his dick faster and harder as Olivia's fingers pushed deeper inside her body. She was close to coming and when she whimpered his name, _"Oh, Fitz, yes, yes, yes,"_ the vision of her getting herself off while she was thinking of him was making him so hot. He continued to rub himself out until he finally came. He lay there for a couple of seconds and then slowly rolled his head to crack the crick in his neck. He gingerly sat up in bed, whipped off his Navy tee-shirt and wiped himself off down there. He looked over at the alarm clock on the nightstand. _7:09 a.m_. With any luck, within 12 hours, Olivia would be back in D.C. and he could then re-enact that scene in his head in the flesh with his woman. He liked the sound of that. _His woman._ He smiled and got out of bed and headed to the shower.

He was enjoying the cascade of hot water beating down on his chest when the phone rang. Fitz cursed under this breath but he knew if that phone was ringing it was important. He shut off the water and stepped out of the shower, grabbed a towel and quickly wrapped it around his waist. He picked up the phone receiver located in the master bath suite.

"Hello?"

_"Good morning, Mr. President. Sorry to disturb you, but it's important."_

"Good morning, Cy. What is it?"

_"The National Weather Center has upgraded that tropical storm moving toward the Southeastern U.S. to a hurricane. We need to come up with a firm plan before it hits so that…"_

"…so that we don't have the aftermath of another Hurricane Katrina on our hands," Fitz finished Cy's sentence. "Yes, of course. Set up a conference call with Bill Cartwright of FEMA and anyone else you think needs to be on the call for 9 a.m. this morning."

Fitz hung up the phone and quickly dried off. As he shaved he thought about how his predecessor had bungled handling Hurricane Katrina, one of the worst natural disasters in recent U.S. history. The previous administration had misjudged the magnitude of the event and the amount of services and personnel that would be needed in Katrina's aftermath. Everything that could go wrong, did go wrong back then, but a lot of it could've been avoided with better foresight.

Cyrus was right for making hurricane planning a priority. Although Republicans talked a lot about the perils of big government and the need to reduce government's role in people's lives, it was during times like these, times of natural disasters, that the federal government could really help the average American in an immediate way. Fitz was determined that there would be no repeat of Hurricane Katrina-like mistakes on his watch.

**10:03 a.m.**

The conference call with the head of FEMA (the Federal Emergency Management Agency) as well as the governors of North and South Carolina went very well. The primary purpose of FEMA is to coordinate the response to a disaster that overwhelms the resources of local and state authorities. The governor of the state in which the disaster occurs must declare a state of emergency and formally request from the president that FEMA and the federal government respond. So, by having this phone call, before the disaster hit, Fitz was able to reassure the governors that they would have whatever they needed, right away, if it turned out that the hurricane was a bad one. Fitz also told the governors to mobilize the National Guard in their states and make sure those units were ready to help local fire and police departments to maintain law and order.

"Sir, I think we've done all that we can for now," Cyrus said, standing up from his seat. "We've got everyone who needs to be on high alert aware of the situation and of what they need to do."

"Cy, thanks for coordinating all of this on such short notice," Fitz said appreciatively. "I know I don't always acknowledge the way you think ahead and cover my back."

"No thanks necessary, Mr. President. Just doing my job," Cyrus replied. He paused and then proceeded cautiously, "sir, about yesterday…"

"What about yesterday?" Fitz asked.

"About Olivia. Has there been any news?"

"Oh, yes, Cy. She's fine. As a matter of fact, she's down in North Carolina but she's coming back today," Fitz said as a glimmer of a smile crossed his lips.

"North Carolina? Well, I hope she's already on her way back because once Gov. Dalton announces evacuation plans, the highways are going to be jammed up."

Fitz looked at his watch. It was a little after 10 a.m. The drive from the Outer Banks, North Carolina back to D.C. was approximately 300 hundred miles. In other words, roughly a six-hour drive with no traffic. With traffic, the journey could take twice as long. Fitz exhaled sharply. He hoped that Olivia and Abby had left first thing this morning at the crack of dawn. He'd wrap up his conversation with Cyrus and then call her.

"Cy, there is something else I need you to work on."

"What is it, sir?"

"I need you to find the source of the information leak we have here in the White House. There's been a steady stream of private and personal info about Olivia spread to the media and it needs to stop. I have my suspicions as to the source, but no proof. I want you to bring in Huck to work on this."

"Huck? Olivia's Huck? Sir, I don't think that would be appropriate," Cyrus said.

"Don't worry about whether it's appropriate or not. We need someone who knows their way around computers and who we can trust and know is loyal to Olivia. There's no one else we can get to do this for us. Huck is the best man for the job."

"So, we're going to reinstate his security clearance?"

"Yes. But have him come in after hours."

"Yes, sir."

_**10 minutes later**_

Olivia looked at her cell and the screen said "private." She knew that it was Fitz.

"Hi!"

"Good morning!" Fitz said brightly. "Where are you?"

"Umm, I'm in the car with Abby."

_"_Good. So, how far away are you? Have you passed Richmond yet?"

"Richmond, VA? Ah, no. We're not anywhere close to Richmond."

"Well, what time did you guys leave? Please tell me that you're at least out of North Carolina?"

"Umm, ah, no," Olivia stammered. "We're still on the Outer Banks."

_"Olivia!"_

"Yeah, I know. It's a long story. Traffic is backed up for miles. Everyone is trying to get out of here."

"You need to seek shelter. Get off the road and find someplace safe where you can stay until this storm passes."

Olivia smiled to hear the concern in Fitz's voice. She was so worried he was going to be annoyed at her but instead his first response was to be concerned for her well-being.

"Yeah, well, actually, that's what Abby and I are trying to do but the traffic is moving at a snail's pace. There's a Red Cross shelter at a local high school and we could wait out the storm there."

"Liv, it would be better if you could go even further inland. The reports I'm getting from the National Weather Center indicate that this tropical storm is going to be a hurricane and I've already told the governor of North Carolina to initiate emergency evacuation procedures."

Liv furrowed her brow. This was very serious. "OK, we'll try. I'll text Cyrus with my location once Abby and I land someplace safe."

"OK, be safe and I'll see you when I see you."

"Huh? What exactly does that mean?" Olivia asked, puzzled.

"It means, I'll see you when I see you. Love you. Bye."

_Click._ The line went dead.


	34. Marine One

_A/N: Hello all! Thanks to everyone for all the funny reviews and pms. I love reading them and they really made my Monday and had me laughing out loud. To Juicy and Dettylover, my apologies for "ruining" your work day. (wink, wink) I promise I'll put a "reader advisory" on the next chapter like that. :) To MsChessplayer, I had the same reaction to Abby that you did. "Better than what?" is right!_

_OK, on to the next update. And trust me, we are in the home stretch. Just a few more chapters to go and then we'll close the book on this modern adult fairytale. Enjoy!_

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**Chapter 33: Marine One**

"_What's yo' name, child?" _

Olivia looked up from folding a blanket to see a tiny elderly black woman standing in front of her. She appeared to be about 80 years old and was dressed in her Sunday finest, with a pink fancy hat. An odd choice considering a hurricane was coming.

"Olivia."

"Olivia," the woman said, repeating what she had just heard. "Why isn't that a lovely name? Pleased to meet you. My name is Hattie. Hattie Carter," the old woman said, sticking out a tiny, wrinkled hand.

"Nice to meet you, Miss Carter," Olivia replied, shaking the woman's bony hand.

Olivia and Abby had made it to the Red Cross shelter at a local high school. When they arrived the school gym, which had been converted into a hurricane shelter, surprisingly wasn't packed yet. Volunteers had begun setting up cots and once Olivia and Abby got situated, they joined right in to help. Olivia was sorting through stacks of blankets and folding them before placing one on each cot.

"Olivia, you look familiar to me," Miss Carter continued. "Is your last name Jessup? You look like you is kin to Carl Jessup."

"No, ma'am. I'm not related to the Jessups," Olivia replied politely.

"Of course, you're not. I can tell now. You're not from around here. You're from up north. What you doing down in these parts?"

"Just visiting friends," Olivia replied simply. "Miss Carter, can I help you with anything? Like maybe find a cot so you can sit down and rest? It's going to be a long day."

"Well, ain't you just the sweetest thing? Yes, dear, I would like that," the old woman said, happy for the personal attention.

Olivia was helping Hattie walk over to the other side of the gym when a rumbling noise outside caught everyone's attention. It had started as a low rumble, off in the distance, but it was quickly approaching, like rolling thunder. Several people inside the gym went scurrying outside to the football field to witness a totally shocking sight - hovering over the well-manicured grassy field was a helicopter. But not just any helicopter. It was Marine One. A hush fell across the small crowd as the helicopter landed.

The air transport's door slowly opened and a Marine stepped off, followed by two Secret Service agents, who quickly visually scanned the area and then spoke into the communication device hidden in their jacket sleeves. The small crowd that had gathered watched with rapt attention, stunned by the scene that was playing out in front of them. A murmur rippled through the air.

"Oh my God!" someone in the crowd shouted. "_**OH MY GOD! It's HIM! It's THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES!"**_

The crowd went wild when Fitz exited the helicopter with a smile and a presidential wave. He nonchalantly climbed down the helicopter's staircase and was greeted by the mayor of the small town as well as the Red Cross coordinator who was in charge of the site.

Fitz, looking for Olivia, tried to scan the small mass of humanity that stood before him, but he couldn't find her. It was hard for him to do so without seeming like he was ignoring the local officials standing in front of him welcoming him to their little community. Fitz exchanged firm handshakes along with a few pleasantries with the local officials and then asked if there was some place where he and his team could set up a sort of mini command station. The mayor suggested the principal's office inside the high school. Fitz motioned over to Hal, his Secret Service agent, and whispered in his ear to go find Olivia.

"Good lord, what's all that fuss outside?" said Hattie Carter looking over at Olivia.

"I don't know, Miss Carter. Why don't we go find out?"

Olivia and the elderly woman shuffled forward to follow the trail of sound. They made their way over to the gym exit that faced the football field. When Olivia caught sight of Marine One sitting there on the grass, she gasped_. "Holy shit!"_ she said under her breath in a tone of both awe and amazement. She smiled broadly and then started laughing.

"Child, what's so funny?" Miss Carter gave Olivia a puzzled look. "Don't you know who that is? That's the **_Pres-i-dent of the U-ni-ted States,_**" the old lady said deliberately pronouncing each syllable for added emphasis.

Fitz and a short stocky fellow, who Olivia assumed was probably some local official, were walking toward the gym entrance. Fitz was walking briskly with that authoritative walk of his, and the shorter fellow had to fall into a light jog to keep up with Fitz's long strides. The crowd, thrilled to be in the presence of the POTUS, cheered and followed after them as though Fitz were the Pied Piper and they were the children of Hamlin.

As Fitz approached the gym entrance, he finally saw Olivia standing there, off to the right, an elderly black woman he didn't recognize standing by her side.

Olivia raised a hand to her lips, kissed her fingertips and then did a sort of mini wave. It was all so subtle and quick that no one in the crowd noticed her do it, especially since all eyes were on Fitz. But he saw it. And he knew that that gesture was solely for him. His practiced politician smile fell away and was replaced by the private smile he had only for his Livvie, the smile that traveled all the way from his lips up to his eyes. As he and the mayor strode past, Fitz gave Olivia a sly sexy wink. She responded with a smirk and a little head nod of acknowledgement.

"Did you see that? _Lawd have mercy, child! Did you see that?!"_ asked Miss Carter, her voice brimming with excitement. _"_The President of the United States just winked at you!"

"Yes, he did," Olivia said, chuckling. "Indeed he did."

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_A/N: OK, there's much more to this chapter but it's still in my head and I was feeling kind of antsy and impatient to post this first part. Besides, I know that you guys don't mind reading shorter chunks of chapters from time to time. I've got to pack my gear for tomorrow's "Hunting Season" (unf, lol), so I probably won't have time to finish this chapter until the weekend, so look for the next update then.** As always, thanks for reading and reviewing!**_


	35. Man of the People

**Hello, Gladiators! **Sorry for the delay in posting a new chapter. I fell into a deep funk after Treegate and didn't feel like writing anything Scandal-related. Olivia with her stupid "_I'm not yours"_ comment and that devastated look on Fitz's face just sucked the life right out of me. Anyway, I'm finally back with a new update.

Thanks to everyone who left a review or sent me a private message regarding the previous chapter, _Marine One_. A lot of you loved, loved, LOVED how large and in charge Fitz was, taking matters into his own hands to fly down and pick up Olivia. I'm so glad that many of you have the same definition of sexy as I do. To me, sexy romance isn't about candelight dinners and a bouquet of roses. That's predictable, boring and unoriginal. To me, sexy is a man who is decisive, considerate and able to anticipate the needs of his woman before she does. OK, on to the next chapter. Enjoy!

_**Historical background related to a speech Hattie Carter makes in this chapter: _

_"LBJ" is President Lyndon B. Johnson who signed into law the Voting Rights Act of 1965, "a landmark piece of national legislation in the United States that outlawed discriminatory voting practices that had been responsible for the widespread disenfranchisement of African Americans in the U.S." Check out Wikipedia if you want to learn more**. **_

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**Chapter 34: Man of the People**

_"OK, you win."_

Olivia turned her head to look and felt Abby place her head on her shoulder. "What?"

"You win. Best. Boyfriend. Ever." Abby said with a grin. She gave Olivia a sideways hug.

"About time you realized it," Olivia said, laughing.

"The President of the United States drops everything to come get you before a hurricane hits? Yeah, I surrender. I know when I've been defeated," Abby replied.

Olivia just smiled and hugged her friend back. They were standing by the entrance to the gym and no one was really paying much attention to them thanks to the crowd's excitement about Fitz's surprise visit. Miss Carter who had already turned to go back inside missed the exchange between Abby and Olivia, so she didn't hear the part about the POTUS being Olivia's boyfriend.

So, Liv, when do you think we can blow this popsicle joint?" Abby asked.

"I dunno. The storm is supposed to make landfall this evening but Fitz just got here and how would it look if the President of the United States up and left within minutes of landing? No, he's got to hang out here for at least an hour, make it seem like this was a political visit and not just a quick supermarket run to pick up his girlfriend," Olivia replied.

When Abby and Olivia entered the gym, Fitz was surrounded by people. Everyone wanted to shake his hand or talk to him. Women with children were handing their babies off to him so that he'd take a photo with them. Several people tried to sneak in a hug or two. Fitz was reveling in the contact and soaking up all the good vibes that people were sending his way. It almost felt like he was back on the campaign trail at a political rally. It had been a long time since he had been out among the electorate like this and the energy flowing between him and the crowd felt good. Really good.

Olivia stood off to the back watching the scene. Fitz was excellent at connecting with the public and she could tell that he was truly enjoying himself. She thought of all the good things Fitz had accomplished in his first term and the strong foundation he had laid for a second. She then caught herself and remembered there would be no second term. For a moment, she grew wistful at the thought. It seemed so unfair to Fitz, to the country, to the world, that such a great leader wasn't going to continue the excellent and necessary work he had started. _And for what?_ Because of her. Seen in that light, the whole idea kind of sickened her. _How could I be so selfish?_ she thought. _This isn't right. It just isn't right_, Olivia thought. Fitz deserved to have a second term. The only reason why he wouldn't was because of her and seeing him there among the people a pang of regret began to tug at her heart.

The sound of an audio system crackling to life brought Olivia's mind back to the present moment. One of the Red Cross volunteers handed Fitz a microphone and he began to say a few words of encouragement to the crowd.

"The forecast is for a hurricane but I just want everyone here to know that I have already spoken to Gov. Dalton and have assured him that the state of North Carolina is going to get whatever it needs to ride out and recover from this storm."

Miss Carter pushed her way through the crowd until she got to the front. _"Mr. President! Mr. President!"_ she called.

Fitz saw the tiny elderly black woman struggling mightily to get his attention. He recognized her as the old lady standing next to Olivia when he arrived.

"Yes, ma'am," Fitz said with a warm smile. "What's your name?"

"Mr. President, my name is Hattie Carter," she said, coming up to Fitz and reaching toward the mic so she could speak into it. "I just want to thank you for coming all the way down here to North Carolina to be with us during this terrible storm."

For a brief moment an indiscernible look crossed Fitz's face but he quickly recovered and said, "Yes, ma'am. I can't think of any other place I'd rather be right now."

"Thank you, Mr. President," Miss Carter replied. "And I just want you and everyone else here to know that I voted for you in the last election. I'm 80 years old and I've voted Democrat all my life up until four years ago. First time in my life I voted Republican. Don't know why, but there was something about you that I liked, no, that I trusted. I could tell you was a good man with a good and honest heart."

Fitz shifted uncomfortably on his feet. Cyrus, who had been standing off to the side, perked up. He whipped out his iPhone and began to record the scene playing out in front of him. He could tell that he was about to hit political gold.

"You know, it hasn't been easy for us down here, down south," Miss Carter continued. When I was young, back in the '60s, black folk like me, well, let's just say, voting may have been our God-given right but it was always difficult. It wasn't until LBJ, God rest his soul, signed that piece of paper that made it safe for black folks like me to vote."

The crowd was silent, hanging on to Miss Carter's every word.

"Pres. Grant, I been hearing in the news that you ain't gonna seek re-election and for the life of me, I just don't understand why. Your country needs you. You've come too far to turn back now," Miss Carter said.

A chant of _"Four more years! Four more years!"_ spread like wildfire throughout the crowd and within seconds the gym was filled with the joyful noise of the people urging Fitz to run for re-election.

Fitz gulped. He was visibly stunned and awestruck by the crowd's reaction. For the first time it hit him, really hit him, who he was leaving behind and letting down by not seeking re-election. The sobering realization caused his chest to tightened from emotion. He leaned over and gave Miss Carter a hug and then took the mic.

"Miss Carter, I've only just met you but I can honestly say that you are a true American patriot. I am privileged and honored to meet you. Thank you very much for your heartfelt words. I can't tell you how much what you just said means to me."

Fitz then turned and addressed the crowd.

"And to the rest of you, I want you to know that I am just a simple man who wanted to be President so that I could help people. People like you and you and you," Fitz said, pointing to random people in the crowd. "But now the time has come for me to step aside and let another take my place. I don't want you to fear the future, to fear the unknown. This great country of ours will continue to be great because of citizens like you. **You** are what make America great - _**You!**_"

The crowd continued to clap and cheer but it didn't go unnoticed that Fitz hadn't fully addressed the reason why he wasn't seeking re-election.

The Secret Service pulled Fitz away from the crowd and escorted him down the hallway to the main office suite of the high school. Once inside, Tom accompanied him to an office and before opening the door asked another agent if it was clear. When he had been given a signal that it was, Tom entered first, quickly scanned the room and then nodded to the president indicating it was safe for him to enter. A White House laptop and satellite phone was already set up on the desk. Less than a minute later came a soft knock on the door.

"Come in," Fitz said.

Olivia quietly entered the room.

"Hey you," Fitz said, a warm smile spreading across his lips. He came out from around the desk and walked slowly toward Olivia.

"Hey handsome," Olivia said, smiling broadly. She couldn't help herself. Seeing him again after all this time made her heart skip a beat. "Forgive me if I don't know how to properly respond. It's been a very long time since I've been summoned to the principal's office."

Fitz laughed and said "come here, you," and pulled her in close until their bodies were touching. "You've been a _very, very_ naughty girl," he said in that deep sexy baritone voice of his. His hand dropped below her waist to cup her butt and he gave her left butt cheek a gentle squeeze. "I have a mind to bend you over this desk and give you a good spanking right about now, scaring me the way you did, running off and leaving D.C. and not answering my calls," he said.

Olivia chuckled and eagerly tilted her head up so that her mouth could meet his. He planted a long, lingering kiss on her lips. When their lips finally parted, Olivia was the first to speak.

"Forgive me?"

"Hmm, I'm not sure," Fitz said playfully. "I think you need to show me how sorry you are for making me worry like that."

"And how, exactly, do you propose I do that?"

"Well, you could start by taking off your clothes and…"

"Fitz, stop it!" Olivia giggled, reaching down to remove his roaming hands from the waistband of her pants. "You can't…we can't do that here!"

"What?" he whined. "Livvie, I haven't seen you in 10 days and I've missed you. I've missed you so much," he said nuzzling her neck. His lips traveled up the lovely expanse of neck to her jawline and then back over to her mouth where he began to kiss her again.

Eventually they stopped kissing and Olivia laid her head against Fitz's chest. She could hear his heartbeat and feel his warmth.

"That was quite the speech you gave out there," she said after a few seconds.

"Liv, it was incredible. Couldn't you just feel the energy of the crowd out there?" Fitz said animatedly, loosening their embrace and leaning back so he could see her face.

"Yes, I could," Olivia said. She had a bemused facial expression as she could see Fitz beginning to relive the moment.

"Didn't it remind you of being back on the campaign trail?"

"Yes, it did."

Fitz grew quiet and looked intently at Olivia.

"Liv…"

"Yes…"

"Liv, that scene out there…did it…." he paused. "Did it bother you?"

"Bother me? Why on earth would it bother me?"

"Liv…c'mon, it was like an impromptu political rally with the crowd saying they want me to seek re-election. I hope you don't think that..."

"Think that what?" Olivia interrupted.

Fitz let out a sharp breath and stepped backwards until he was leaning against the principal's desk. Olivia stood facing him as he sat along the front edge of the piece of furniture. He reached out and interlaced his hands with hers. They stood like that for a moment, just looking at one another, before he finally spoke.

"Liv, for one minute, just one minute, I'm not the President and you're not the great fixer Olivia Pope. I'm just a man and you are the incredible woman I am in love with," Fitz said softly, raising a hand to stroke her cheek. "What happened out there changes nothing between us. Nothing. I am not going to run again."

Olivia quickly nodded, but didn't say anything. What was there to say? She hated herself but she was experiencing _déjà vu._ Yes, she wanted to be with Fitz but that old nagging doubt began to tug at her conscience once again. She had always wanted him to fulfill his destiny. But was his destiny to be just a one-term president? Her gut was telling her no.

But what could she do? Breaking off the relationship wasn't an option. That would devastate them both. But sticking around as his girlfriend was going to hold him back from reaching his full potential if the Republican Party convinced him to run again. She was a political distraction, something that his opponents could use to bring him down. So what was the solution? She knew that for the moment she'd have to put on a brave face. She couldn't let Fitz see her doubts, see what she was truly thinking and feeling.

"When do you think we can get out of here?" she asked sweetly. "I really want to show you and Little Fitz just how sorry I am."

"Lil' Fitz, huh? Wow, Liv, you're like the anti-Viagra. We must have been apart longer than I remember because there's no way that this," and he took her hand and placed it firmly against the large bulge in his pants, "is little. No fucking way."

Olivia laughed. "God, your ego needs to be constantly stroked, doesn't it?"

"Stroked? Yeah, there's something I need stroked and I can assure you it isn't my ego," Fitz said seductively as he nibbled on her neck.

"Look, the sooner we get out of here and back to D.C., the sooner I can have my way with you in your bed. No interruptions. No distractions," Olivia said.

"_Hmm,_ I like the sound of that," Fitz said, his teeth gently tugging on her earlobe. "I think that can be arranged. I know a guy who has his own helicopter," he said as they began to kiss again.

The _ra-tat-tat_ of a light knock on the door brought them both back down to earth. They pulled apart and Fitz went to stand behind the desk while Olivia sat down in a chair across from him.

"Come in," Fitz said, quickly raking a hand through his hair.

"Mr. President, sorry to interrupt," said Cyrus, "but the latest report from the National Weather Center is that the storm has been upgraded to a Category 4 Hurricane. We need to get back to D.C. right away."

"Of course, Cyrus," Fitz said. He was about to say something else when one of the Secret Service agents came up behind Cyrus and tapped him on the shoulder. Cyrus listened, shook his head no and then was about to dismiss the agent when Fitz asked, "Hal, what's going on?"

"Mr. President, the mayor of this town says there aren't enough able bodied men around to help out with some of the hurricane preparations. Things like filling sandbags and boarding up some of the store windows. He asked if it would be possible for a few of us agents to lend a hand," Hal responded.

"Sir, I think that..." Cyrus began.

"Hal, of course, you can help," Fitz said, ignoring whatever it was Cyrus was about to say. "It's an excellent idea. In fact, I think I'll help too."

"_What?_ Mr. President, is that really wise?" Cyrus asked, stepping forward.

"Who cares whether it's wise or not? We're here. We can help. Case closed," Fitz said authoritatively. "Hal, go tell the mayor that we'll lend a hand. I'll be out there in a few minutes."

Cyrus and Hal turned to leave. Once they were gone, Olivia stood up and walked over to the door. "Are you really going?" she asked.

"Yeah, what's the big deal?" he asked in reply. He opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. Olivia followed.

"Well, it's not exactly every day the President of the United States volunteers to fill sandbags," she said with a smile.

"You know what, Liv, I don't get enough moments like this, where I can actually be out there with the people and spend some real time with them," Fitz replied, taking a hold of her hand. They stopped walking and turned to look directly at one another. "We're down here, there's no press corps, nothing. It's just you, me and a group of people that need my help. That need me. I like this. I like this a lot."

"Man of the people," Olivia said smiling and looking up at him. He reached down and kissed her while they were standing in the hallway.

"Man of the people," Fitz repeated in reply.

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_**A/N: So…what did you think of this chapter? Share your opinion in a review. Thanks!**_


	36. Climax

**_A/N: Just a quick note to let anyone starting this story with this chapter that its hurricane story line is actually one I introduced back in September, a month before anyone even knew that Hurricane Sandy was on the horizon. I'm mentioning this because I don't want anyone to think I introduced a hurricane into this story as some sort of cheap gimmick. I actually live in the region that was affected, although, thankfully was spared any damage. My heart and prayers go out to the people on the Jersey Shore, Northern New Jersey and New York who have had their lives completely upended by Hurricane Sandy_. _I hope to God that our next president, whoever he is, will not forget them and use the power of the federal government to help them get their lives back._  
**

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**Chapter 35: Climax**

The storm was worse than anticipated. Hurricane Cindy hit the U.S. eastern seaboard with a vengeance erasing or demolishing much of what lay in its path. North and South Carolina were particularly hard hit but the hurricane also did considerable damage to the Chesapeake Bay area of Virginia and Maryland.

Fitz and Olivia, of course, had gotten out of the path of the storm before it made landfall. Back in D.C., Fitz, along with key members of his staff and cabinet such as the head of Homeland Security, monitored the hurricane's path of destruction from the White House's Situation Room.

In the days after the hurricane was over, Fitz made site visits with the governors to some of the most affected areas. He visited storm shelters, hospitals and toured some communities where there was extensive property damage. Fitz insisted that Olivia accompany him on these site visits, so she took time off from work to travel with him and got a chance to witness firsthand just how well suited Fitzgerald T. Grant III was to be President of the United States. The person she had once let go to "be the man I voted for," had blossomed into exactly that – a beloved leader with a common touch that made people know that he genuinely cared about their fate.

Olivia was so proud of him. But at the end of each day she couldn't shake the nagging guilt she was feeling more and more. These state visits felt more like a goodbye to the presidency tour, which made her feel sad. At least, that's the way Olivia was interpreting it. Fitz, on the other hand, she noticed, was absolutely in the present moment, focused on the here and now and not thinking about the future, his future, their future. He was determined to do everything within his presidential power to restore the affected areas.

Hurricane Cindy's swath of destruction was shocking, tragic and pervasive. But there were some photos that emerged in the media after the hurricane that brightened the mood of the American people and gave them hope. And those were the photos of the POTUS carrying sandbags and boarding up shop windows with plywood.

When it came out in the news that Pres. Grant had traveled down to a tiny hamlet in North Carolina before the hurricane hit and had gotten down in the trenches to help the townspeople prepare for the storm, the media went wild. Here was the playboy prince of a president, a Republican no less, out there getting his hands dirty and being a true leader, a real man of the people.

The photos of Fitz were straight out of central casting for some feel good Hollywood movie. There he was in one shot, his sleeves rolled up, with Ms. Hattie Carter, tears streaming down her face as she hugged him tight as though he were some sort of prodigal son come home. In another picture he looked regal and so damn presidential with military perfect posture, chest out, hands on hips, his superman curls blowing in the wind, as he stood and talked to local officials. Then there were a series of candid photos that had been taken surreptitiously by the North Carolina townspeople and sold to the media. These were photos that catapulted Fitz to certified "Ridiculously Photogenic Presidential Stud" status. Sweat on his brow, the dress shirt gone, he had stripped down to his white Hanes undershirt as he filled sandbags. In several of these photos one could see just how physically fit Pres. Grant was, his upper back and chest muscles rippling through his undershirt while his taut biceps were on full display.

"That's quite a nice set of guns you've got there, Mr. President," said Cyrus admiring the photo on the front page of the Washington Post.

They were in the Oval Office and it had been two weeks since Hurricane Cindy had barreled through North and South Carolina. Fitz rolled his eyes at Cyrus' compliment.

"Cy, we've still got plenty of work to do. Stop being so frivolous," he said.

"It's not me being frivolous, sir. Blame the media. Have you seen the headlines?" Cyrus asked, dropping a stack of other newspapers and magazines on Resolute, the Oval Office desk.

Fitz quickly glanced at them and groaned.

From the New York Post:_** "Hail to the Hunk-in-Chief"**_

From the National Enquirer: _**"President Beefcake"**_

From People Magazine: _**"The American President Gets Down and Dirty"**_

From Men's Fitness: **_"Shock and Awe! The Presidential Workout: Get Ripped in 30 Days!"_**

From Essence Magazine: _**"Meet our FAPOTUS!"**_

"_FAPOTUS?_ What the hell does that mean?" Fitz asked Cyrus.

"Fine Ass President of the United States," Cy replied smiling.

_"You've **got** to be kidding me. Jesus Christ!_ This is ridiculous!" Fitz exclaimed, annoyed.

"Ridiculous? No, it's quite the opposite," Cy said. "This, Mr. President, is political gold."

"Cy, for once, just once, could you stop channeling Machiavelli, put aside your political strategist hat and think about the suffering of real human beings? Just once," Fitz said exasperated. "This stuff that the media is focusing on is so trivial. Who the hell cares what my workout routine is? The economic impact of Hurricane Cindy is going to be massive. We're going to have a devil of a time convincing congressional members of my own party to push through a large stimulus bill to get people back on their feet in the affected areas and you want me to sit here and gloat over some cheesy Instagram photos of me filling sandbags!"

Fitz stood up, scooped up all the publications and ceremoniously dumped them in a nearby wastepaper basket.

Cyrus, his head cocked to the side, just looked at Fitz.

"Sir, consider the optics," Cyrus said. "This positive and fawning media coverage is a gift from the political gods. Do you not see what is happening? Do you not see what is going on? The tide is changing. The media backlash that has raked you over the coals these past few months has completely receded and has been replaced with something else…open admiration and affection for you."

"Cy, that's all well and good, and maybe I'll appreciate it a year from now when I'm no longer in office. But for now, while I'm still president, we've got plenty of work left to do and very little time left in which to do it," Fitz said with fierce determination.

"Exactly, sir. Wouldn't it be nice if you had more time as president? Don't you feel like you will be leaving office with plenty of work still undone?"

"Cyrus, we are **NOT** going to have this conversation," Fitz said firmly. "I've already made my wishes known. I will not run for re-election and that's final. Now, if you don't mind, I've got a country to run."

Cyrus lingered a moment, shook his head in exasperation and then turned and left the Oval Office. As he walked down the hall back to his own office, a little smile crept across his face. He had some political homework to do and he needed to get started right away.

* * *

That evening when Fitz got home from the Oval, Olivia could tell something was bothering him. "How'd your day go?" she gently asked.

"Cyrus is stirring up things," Fitz said, taking off his suit jacket. "I hate how he always thinks he knows me better than I know myself."

"What happened?" Olivia asked. She opened the liquor cabinet, took out a tumbler and poured two fingers of Scotch.

"He's trying to put a bug in my ear to run again," Fitz said loosening his tie and plopping down on the couch.

Olivia came and sat beside him. "And what would be wrong with that?" she asked, handing him the glass of Scotch.

Fitz ignored her outstretched hand and looked at her startled. _"What?"_

"I said, and what would be wrong with you running for re-election?" Olivia calmly repeated her question. She put the glass of Scotch down on the coffee table.

"Liv, we talked about this. We decided that if we were going to be together that I wouldn't seek a second term," Fitz said with a puzzled, questioning look.

"No, actually, we didn't. You decided that and I just went along with it."

_"Say what? Huh?_ Wait a minute. So now you're saying that I unilaterally made this decision, with no thought or consideration of your wishes, to not run for president again?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying," Olivia replied, scooting over closer to him. She lazily dangled a leg across his thigh. Her delicate signature fragrance of amber and lavender wafted up towards his nose and he could tell she was beginning her classic seduction of him. But he needed to keep a clear head. He gently pushed her leg off his thigh. He didn't want to be seduced. Not now. Olivia looked a little surprised. She leaned forward and picked up the glass of Scotch and tried handing it to him again.

Fitz shook his head no and refused to take it.

"I'm really confused, Olivia. So, what exactly are you saying? You're saying you want me to run for president again?"

"No."

"So then what the hell are you saying? C'mon, Olivia, say what you mean! Stop being so goddamn obtuse!"

"After the Amanda Tanner fiasco, I told you to go be the man I voted for, and now, three years later, you have exceeded the expectations I had for you," Olivia said.

"Well, gee, thanks, Liv. That's mighty white of you," Fitz said sarcastically.

"Fitz!"

"Look, don't you dare patronize me. After everything we've gone through you're telling me now that the future we talked about, that we were planning, isn't what you wanted? _Are you kidding me?!"_

"This shouldn't be about me. This should be about what's right for you and what's best for this country," The Fixer said calmly.

"Olivia, don't you dare say it," Fitz said, his voice rising in anger. "I can't go through this again with you, and I won't let you…."

She cut him off in mid-sentence: "These past few months I've been very selfish, I know. I'll admit it has been quite the ego boost for me to have you, the President of the United States, so completely and totally smitten with me. And I love you, I really do. And I want to thank you for being so generous with your time and gracious to me."

"_Olivia, what are you saying?"_ Fitz asked, alarmed. "This sounds like you're about to break up with me!"

_"Ssssh,"_ she said, putting a finger up to his lips to quiet him. "Let me finish. It's been wonderful being a part of your life full-time and not living in the shadows anymore. But seeing you in action before, during and after Hurricane Cindy, I can see now just how much good you can accomplish as President."

That old fear of Olivia leaving him, abandoning him again, shook his core and tightened his chest with alarm. She was not going to do this to him again. No way. He had to remain calm. He took a deep breath before speaking.

"Liv, what exactly are you saying?" Fitz said, a look of consternation clouding his face.

"I'm saying that your country needs you."

"But I need you more," he said softly, pulling her toward him. He knew exactly where this conversation was headed because they had been down this road before, and he was determined to cut it off before it reached its inevitable conclusion, with Olivia deciding on her own, like she always did, to sacrifice her own personal happiness out of some misguided sense of duty or patriotism.

He slid a hand under her grey cashmere sweater and her body quivered as his fingers began to trace gently up her spine. Slowly and sensuously he began to kiss her. Finally, he briefly broke off contact to lift her up and over his lap so that she would be facing him and forced to straddle him.

Olivia eased down and sat on top of him, her thighs straddling his own. Although they were both still fully dressed, she could feel his want growing in size, an already considerable hard bulge forming within his pants. Olivia began to grind into him and ran her fingers through his curly hair. Fitz smirked and grabbed her face with both hands and began to kiss her again.

"Fitz, I'm deadly serious," Olivia panted, peeling her swollen lips away from his.

"And I'm deadly serious too," he said, looking at her with tremendous love, want and desire in his smoldering grey-blue eyes. "Liv, what's it gonna take to convince you once and for all that I'm committed to spending the rest of my life with you? I don't want to be president if it means I can't have you."

"But the only reason why you're not running again is because of me," Olivia whined.

"That's not true," Fitz said.

"But Fitz..."

"But nothing," he said, capturing her plush open mouth with his lips again so that she would shut up and stop talking, stop thinking, stop trying to fix a situation that didn't need fixing.

He wrapped an arm around her tiny waist and then gently flipped her on to her back. Olivia was completely defenseless with Fitz on top of her. Her breathing quickened and she inhaled his warm, woodsy intoxicating scent of sandalwood and cedar. She could feel the moisture that had already pooled between her legs, she was so aroused by him. By God, she loved this man with every cell of her being. It was going to be so hard, no impossible to say no to him.

He supported his weight on his elbows and gently caressed her cheek. He was looking at her intently, searching her face for the guilt and doubt she had been struggling to hide for the past few weeks. Their faces were mere inches apart. He dipped his head down along the side of her face and inhaled her scent deeply. Olivia turned her head to the side to give him full and easy access to her neck. His tongue darted out and lightly licked the smooth, warm skin behind her ear and then captured her earlobe between his teeth. He gently tugged on the fleshy lobe before he hoarsely whispered in her ear, _"I'm not letting you go. Ever."_

It was then that something inside Olivia's mind shifted. In the past, she normally would've pushed him away or would've come up with some reason or rationale as to why what they were doing was wrong. But not this time. She was no longer afraid to admit it. She wanted him. She wanted to be there for him, body and soul. She wanted to share her life with him, come what may. In the past, she had thought this, but now, finally, she believed it and actually felt this in her gut that this was the right thing to do. It was the only thing to do. Sacrificing her own personal happiness was no longer going to be her natural default. Running was a coward's way out and she was no longer afraid.

She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck and said, "I'm not letting you go, either," and then pulled his mouth down toward hers. She kissed him passionately and when their lips parted and his mouth traveled down to her neck, Olivia shuddered at the touch of his rough tongue against her smooth delicate skin. "Fitz, please, make love to me," she said.

Without a word, Fitz scooped her up off the couch and carried her into the bedroom. They quickly undressed one another and climbed into bed. Tender exploratory kisses deepened into much more. The connection between them was strong but Fitz wanted to do something to deepen their bond and intensify the intimacy between them.

_"Look at me. Don't take your eyes off of me."_

Olivia did as Fitz commanded. His beautiful face tensed slightly as he entered her. He gripped her right side, placing his left hand directly on her pelvic bone and as he pushed down into her, piercing her hot slick entrance, Olivia cried out in pleasurable pain, and her eyes naturally closed.

_"Goddamn, Liv, you're so wet, so fucking tight,"_ Fitz grunted as he began to slowly move inside of her. "And I love it. All of this is for me, isn't it?"

Olivia, feeling so wanted and desired, was momentarily speechless and just nodded her head yes, her eyes still closed.

_"Open your eyes,"_ Fitz softly said as his cock began to grow even harder and thicker encased inside the constrictive sticky walls of her vagina. Olivia began to writhe underneath him as she felt his rigid hardness continuing to fill and stretch her out from the inside.

_"Look at me,"_ he said again in that deep sexy baritone of his. Her eyes snapped open. He slowly rocked back and forth into her body, establishing a rhythm as his eyes held her in their magnetic pull.

The heated desire radiating from his eyes as they connected with hers was blistering and unlike anything Olivia had ever experienced before. She was emotionally laid bare. There was no hiding, no faking, and no pretending under his intense gaze.

A moment of truth had finally arrived and it was time for Olivia to be completely open and honest with herself and with Fitz. The sensations that he was unleashing in her body and soul were indescribable. Her eyelids fluttered and slightly closed as she reveled in the complete and utter bliss she was feeling.

_"Livvie, open your eyes,"_ he said again. She obeyed and in her beautiful mahogany orbs Fitz could finally see reflected all the love, desire and want she had for him. _"Livvie, sweet baby, say the words you know I need to hear,"_ he whispered in her ear.

_"I'm yours, Fitz, I'm all yours."_

* * *

**_A/N: OK, Gladiators, this chapter took a lot out of me. It feels like a natural ending to "The Heart Wants What it Wants" but it's not the ending I originally had in mind, so I still have a few more loose endings to tie up. I fear that what I have left to write is going to feel totally anti-climatic after this chapter. Oh well, guess, that's the price I have to pay._**

**_Thanks for hanging in there and continuing to follow this story. Your reviews are my only reward. Thanks!_**


	37. Light of Day

_A/N: So, what ever happened to Gideon Wallace and Billy Chambers? Well, Gideon overstepped his bounds and got fired from his journalism job. He burned too many sources and eventually got axed. And Billy Chambers? Yeah, he eventually got what was coming to him. Huck did an extensive investigation into the White House computer and phone logs and uncovered Billy's treachery and involvement with Farheed Davi and later his anonymous feeding of negative info and photos of Olivia to the media. Billy was tried for treason, found guilty and given a prison life sentence. And now, back to our regularly scheduled programming…_

**Chapter: 36: Light of Day**

_**7 a.m.**_

_Cinnamon, vanilla and milk._ The smell was….different. _What is that?_ Olivia thought, still somewhat asleep. Was she dreaming? She was in bed and rolled over on to her side. A few moments later she felt something soft, moist and spongy press against her cheek. It was cool to the touch but then she felt the friction of something wet, warm and coarse rub against her cheek. It felt like a tongue and it was licking her._ Ewwww._

Olivia, who was still under the covers, thrashed and kicked her feet from underneath the sheets and comforter, and then felt something warm and fuzzy tumble off her chest. She woke up with a fright: _"EEK!"_

She struggled to sit up in the bed. She rubbed the drowsiness out of her eyes. There, sitting on top of the comforter staring at her intently with its head cocked to one side was the cutest puppy Olivia had ever seen.

As soon as Olivia made eye contact, the pup let out two short barks, as way of introduction, and started to fierecly wag its little tail. He waddled forward to get closer to Olivia.

"Oh my! And who are you?" she said, reaching down to grab the chubby pup who was now perched on top of her thighs. "Why aren't you a little cutie! Where'd you come from? What's your name?"

"Bentley," said Fitz, laughing. He was standing in the bedroom doorway looking at Olivia and smiling at the scene playing out in front of him.

"Fitz, you got a dog! Where have you been hiding him?"

"No, _WE_ got a dog," Fitz corrected her, "and I haven't been hiding him. I picked him out of the litter a couple weeks ago, but he's only recently been weaned from his mom. They delivered him to the White House yesterday. He's only 9 weeks old."

"Gosh, Fitz, he's so cute! And he's got that great puppy smell. He smells like a cinnamon bun! I love him!" Olivia squealed, petting Bentley and scratching behind his little ears. _"Aren't you just the cutest thing, you little chunky monkey, cinnabon, cinnabon?"_ Olivia chirped, devolving into baby talk with the beagle puppy. Bentley wiggled his little hind legs as Olivia held him and continued to baby talk to him. Suddenly she stopped and sat there completely frozen as Bentley dangled in mid-air between her uplifted hands.

Fitz noticed that Olivia was frozen. She looked like she had seen a ghost.

"Liv…are you alright?" he asked.

_"I….I…."_ Olivia managed to stammer out. She appeared to be in a state of shock. She put the dog back down on the blanket.

"Olivia, what's wrong? Talk to me!" Fitz said rushing over to the bed.

"That….that..._thing!_" Olivia exclaimed, her hand visibly shaking as she pointed to Bentley's neck. "That thing around his neck. What is _that?!_ Is that…._for real?_"

Fitz picked Bentley up and briefly cuddled the pup before handing him back over to Olivia. "I don't know, Liv. Why don't you take a closer look and tell me?" he said with a chuckle.

Olivia just looked at Bentley in awe. Actually, not at Bentley but at the bright, shiny object glittering and dangling from his dog collar. She quickly unbuckled the doggie collar and the most beautiful ring Olivia had ever laid eyes on slid off the collar and fell into the palm of her hand.

She was now fully awake and sat completely upright in bed. **_"OH. MY. GOD!"_** was all she was able to say.

Fitz sat down on the edge of the bed. "Here, let me help you with that," he said laughing, taking the 6-carat diamond ring out of her hand. It was a stunning pear-shaped diamond in a platinum setting that Fitz had had custom designed for his Livvie. He gently picked up her left hand and slipped the dazzling symbol of commitment onto her ring finger. It fit perfectly.

"Livvie, I've loved you from the very first moment I laid eyes on you," Fitz said looking deeply into her eyes while caressing her cheek. "With one look, you captured my heart. You make me insanely happy and incredibly grateful to have you in my life, and you would make me the happiest man in the universe if you'd agree to be my wife."

The tears had already begun flowing down Olivia's cheeks. She was stunned speechless. Fitz wiped away the tears and gently kissed her on the lips.

"So, Livvie, what do you say? Will you marry me?"

She nodded her head wildly, still unable to speak. Fitz laughed. "I never thought I'd see the day that I'd actually render you speechless," he said, still lightly stroking her cheek. "Baby, I need to hear you say it, so I'll ask you again – Olivia Victoria Pope, I love you more than words can say. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife and spending the rest of your life with me?"

_**"Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes!"**_ Olivia squealed and hugged and kissed Fitz enthusiastically. Their happiness was contagious and Bentley began barking up a storm, his little tail wagging like crazy as he went running around in circles on top of the bed.

* * *

_**12 p.m.**_

"Cyrus, what is this?"

The White House Chief of Staff dropped a thick folder on top of Olivia's desk.

"Just a little light reading for you, Liv," Cyrus said sarcastically.

"Enlighten me. What is it? This has got to be important for you to have made the trek all the way over here from the White House to my office, so you may as well give me a brief run down on what I'm about to read," Olivia said, mildly annoyed. She hated the way Cyrus treated her as though she still worked for him and that she would just drop whatever it was she was doing just to cater to him.

"This is the latest polling data from the RNC [Republican National Committee] as well as opposition research from the Democrats about the next election," Cyrus said.

"Cyrus….you didn't!" Olivia exclaimed. He now had her complete attention.

"I did," Cyrus said triumphantly. "Let's just say that I know a guy who knows a guy."

"Yeah, OK, don't say another word. I don't want to know. I need plausible denialability in case I ever get subpeonaed."

Olivia sat back down and started leafing through the thick stack of paper. Her face clouded over as she read the documents and her mood grew pensive. If what she was seeing was true, everything she thought she knew about the American electorate was completely wrong.

"Is this data accurate?"

"Completely. Margin of error, plus or minus 3 points."

"Has Fitz seen this?"

"No. I'm showing it to you first.

"Why? Fitz needs to see this. Why would you withhold this information from him?"

"I'm not withholding anything from him. I decided to share it with you first because what happens next is solely dependent on you."

_"On me?_ Cy, you overestimate my influence," Olivia said with a wry laugh.

"Come off it, Liv. Stop with the modesty act. Everyone knows that you are the true power behind the throne. A simple word or gesture from you can tip the scales and get the President of the United States to take action."

"I'm not exactly sure what it is that you want me to do here," Olivia said.

"Liv, you're a political operative. You see what this polling data is saying. The numbers don't lie. You made a sacrifice before. It's time for you to make a sacrifice again for the good of this country."

"Cy, you can't ask me to do this. You know how difficult this has been for Fitz, for me. I let you talk me out of pursuing my happiness once before. I'm not going to let you do that to me again," Olivia said, defiantly. She stood up and began to pace back and forth while Cyrus watched her. She looked down at her hand and nervously touched the glittering ring on her finger. A ring that held the promise of a bright, beautiful but completely uncertain future with the man of her dreams, the man she loved more than life itself.

Cyrus immediately noticed that Olivia was zoning out and looked down at her hand. He shook his head in disbelief.

"What's that?" he asked pointing at her hand. _"Holy Mother of God,_ is that what I think it is?"

Olivia looked up and asked sarcastically, "What does it look like, Cy? It's an engagement ring."

There was a brief moment of awkward silence between them. Olivia braced herself for the torrent of criticism she knew was about to rain down on her from her old law school professor, mentor and harshest critic. But instead a wide grin spread across Cyrus' face.

_"Congratulations! This is fantastic! I can't believe it!"_ Cyrus beamed. He came around the desk where she was standing and gave her a big bear hug. His boisterous, joyous reaction caught Olivia completely off guard and she was in complete shock.

"When did this happen? That sly dog didn't mention a thing to me," Cyrus said, referring to Fitz.

"But he tells you everything," Olivia protested.

"He didn't tell me this," Cyrus said, beaming with joy.

"Well, he just proposed this morning. Caught me by surprise too," Olivia said, allowing herself to laugh. She couldn't believe that Cyrus Beene, of all people, was taking the news of her engagement to Fitz so well.

"Liv, look, I really don't want to rain on your parade, but back to the matter at hand, as you can see from this latest polling research, Fitz has got another very important decision to make, and it's now clear that he's not going to make the right decision unless you're on board."

"The right decision, Cy? And what exactly is the right decision?"

"Olivia, you know what that is. You've known from the very beginning, from that first day you joined the campaign and Fitz fired you and then hired you back. You've always known," Cyrus said.

"I need to think about this. I've been engaged for less six hours, and now you're asking me to give up everything I've worked so hard for and to make a huge sacrifice. Again. It's not fair, Cy. I'm not sure I can do it."

"Olivia, I know that what I'm asking of you is difficult. It's probably the most difficult thing I'll ever ask you to do, but you know that it's the right thing. It's the right thing for Fitz and for this country."

"But what about me, Cy? What's the right thing for me? Isn't it time I put myself first?"

"Just think about it, OK? That's all I ask. Just think about it," Cyrus said, patting her on the shoulder. "I've got a meeting at 4 with Fitz. So, if you could let me know by then."

"Oh, no pressure, right?" Olivia said sarcastically. "You can't just drop all this on me, and on today of all days! I just got engaged, Cy! Can't I have even one day to simply enjoy it without any drama?"

"Liv, you and I both already know what you're going to do, so why delay the inevitable?"

* * *

_**Later the same day, a little after 4 p.m. in Cyrus' office**_

"So, Mr. President, here is the latest polling data from the RNC," Cyrus said, handing Fitz a folder.

"Polling data? Cy, how many times do I have to tell you, I'm not seeking re-election," Fitz said, slightly exasperated with his Chief of Staff. "I realize you're worried about being unemployed, but soon you'll be free to be president of Harvard or Princeton or maybe even run someone else's presidential campaign."

"Sir, I know you haven't been paying attention, but since Hurricane Cindy, your approval ratings have shot up through the roof. Your job approval rating is now at 78%, which is the highest it has ever been. And now I have precise polling data that shows that those approval ratings are no fluke."

"Cy, I don't have time for this nonsense," Fitz said, standing up.

"Mr. President, please, wait, you haven't even looked at the data yet."

"I don't need to," the POTUS said, turning and walking toward the door.

Cyrus began to loudly recite numbers in staccato like fashion:_ "70%, 85%, 63%, 79%"_

Fitz stopped dead in his tracks. His hand was on the doorknob but he was now, suddenly, very reluctant to leave.

"Cy…."

"Yes, sir," Cyrus cut him off. "These stats are legit."

_"Percent of voters who approve of the way you are handling the economy: 70%_

_Percent who say you will do a better job than the Democrats at handling terrorism: 85%_

_Percent who approve of the way you handle women's and senior citizen issues: 63%_

_Percent of voters who say they don't care that you're divorced: 79%"_

Fitz slowly turned around and looked at Cy. He was dumbstruck.

"And when asked if the election were held today who would they vote for 68% of registered voters said Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III," Cyrus said triumphantly.

Fitz looked like the wind had been knocked out of him. He sat down in the burgundy leather chair in front of Cy's desk.

"This….this…I never expected _this._ I never expected the American people to be OK with this version of me," Fitz said, stunned.

"What do you mean _"this version"_ of you? The version of you that is decisive, compassionate, caring yet authoritative and reassuring?" Cyrus asked. "These last few months since you went public with Olivia have probably been the most authentic you've ever been. So if the American people are OK with this version of you, it's the real you. Don't run away from your legacy, sir. The American people are making it clear…they want you to continue as their President."

"Cy, I proposed to Olivia this morning. There's no way in hell that she's going to accept me running for re-election. No way," Fitz said.

"Well, I wouldn't be so sure of that," Olivia said, entering the room without knocking. "Sounds to me like you've got this next election in the bag. In fact, it sounds like it will be Grant in a landslide."

"Liv, you're late. Thought you would never get here," Cyrus said, giving Olivia a sly smile.

"Sorry, Cy, this damn D.C. traffic," Olivia said, unbuckling her coat and taking it off. She walked over to Fitz, who stood up as soon as he saw her. She gave him a light kiss. "So has Cy talked you into running for president again?"

"Liv, what are you doing here?" Fitz said, surprised. "I thought that…"

"Fitz, it's clear to anyone with a pulse that you love being president," she said interrupting him. "You were born to be president and you still have so much good you can do. Why on earth would you want to quit now?"

"But, Liv, I thought you wanted a shot at a normal life…"

"Yes, I know, and there was a time that that was true. But can people like us ever truly be "normal?" Normal is overrated. What's normal when you've got round-the-clock Secret Service protection anyway? What I know, without a shadow of a doubt, is that I can't be happy if you're not happy and being president makes you happy, so that makes me happy," Olivia said. She was rambling. In the background, Cyrus chuckled.

"So, what's it gonna be, sweet cheeks?" she asked Fitz playfully, wrapping her arms around his waist and looking up at him "You in or you out?"

"I'm in," Fitz said with a wide smile.

"And I'm in too!" Cyrus chirped.

"Well then I guess it's decided!" Olivia exclaimed. "Oh my God, does this mean I'm going to be First Lady?"

"Uh-oh, no backing out now! Too late!" Fitz said, lifting her up and squeezing her in a tight embrace as he spun her around. "You're going to make a great First Lady. The Best First Lady. _My First Lady,_" Fitz said kissing her passionately.

* * *

_**Epilogue**_

_A month later at the Republican National Convention_

Location: Madison Square Garden, New York City

It's the last night and the time has arrived for Pres. Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III to accept his party's nomination for a second term. A video flashes across the screen showing iconic images from Fitz's entire life and career. As the video reaches its apex with images from Hurricane Cindy showing Fitz in action helping the people, the crowd inside of Madison Square Garden goes wild chanting **_"FOUR MORE YEARS! FOUR MORE YEARS!"_**

Fitz walks out on stage to thunderous applause. He looks incredibly dapper in a custom tailored navy blue suit with a navy blue and burgundy red tie. It takes several moments before the din of the applause begins to quiet down enough that he can actually begin his speech. He starts by thanking the people and his party for nominating him for president again and speaks of the challenges and successes he has achieved during his first term of office. And then the speech becomes more personal.

_"Tonight every one of you knows deep in your heart that we are too divided. It is time to heal America._

_And so we must say to every American: Look beyond the stereotypes that blind us. We need each other - all of us - we need each other. We don't have a person to waste, and yet for too long politicians have told the most of us that are doing all right that what's really wrong with America is the rest of us- them._

_Them, the minorities. Them, the liberals. Them, the foreigners. Them, the gays._

_We've gotten to where we've nearly them'ed ourselves to death. Them, and them, and them._

_But this is America. There is no them. There is only us._

_One nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all._

_That is our Pledge of Allegiance, and if you re-elect me as your president, I'll bring about a New Covenant._

_In the end, my fellow Americans, this New Covenant simply asks us all to be Americans again- old-fashioned Americans for a new time. Opportunity, responsibility, community._

_If you want to know where I come by this passionate commitment I have to bringing people together, I have to give credit where credit is due - to the one person who has changed my outlook, changed my life, and inspires me every day to be a better man than I was the day before. That person is my best friend, my confidante, my lover, my soul mate, my better half and future wife – Olivia Pope. I've learned so much from her, about how to love, how to fight for what's right, how to never give up and to always persevere. This country will be lucky to have her as its First Lady. I fall for her every time I see her. Olivia, I love you."_

Fitz turns and looks directly at Olivia who is standing next to Cyrus off to the side of the stage. The TV cameras pan right and capture Olivia smiling broadly and wiping a tear away from her eye. She mouths back _"I love you too."_

_(APPLAUSE)_

Fitz continues:

_"When we pull together, America will pull ahead. Throughout the whole history of this country, we have seen, time and time and time again, that when we are united we are unstoppable._

_We can seize this moment, make it exciting and energizing and heroic to be American again. We can renew our faith in each other and in ourselves. We can restore our sense of unity and community. We learn from our mistakes, but we keep our eyes fixed on that distant horizon, knowing that Providence is with us, and that we are surely blessed to be citizens of the greatest nation on Earth._

_(APPLAUSE)_

_Thank you, God bless you, and may God bless these United States of America._

**THE END**

* * *

_A/N: Gladiators, we've come to the end of the road. It's so sad saying goodbye to these characters that I've grown to fall so madly and deeply in love with. It's been an incredible journey for me. I started this story almost six months ago, back in June, as a complete lark, not really expecting much, and it grew to become a huge part of my life during the summer. I'd rush home from work and write until the wee hours of the morning._

_**I can't thank you guys enough for all the reviews, support and encouragement you gave me every step along the way.** They definitely kept me motivated and made me want to write the best possible story I could write. **It's truly been a privilege sharing this story with all of you.**_

_I've got a brand new story idea percolating in my head. Not sure when I will be ready to launch it, so sign up for an author alert so that you'll get an email alert as soon as that new story goes live on this site._

**_Thank you, thank you, thank you! It's been a blast!_**

_Neo_

_P.S. And thanks to Bill Clinton and Barack Obama for having such great speechwriters! I used parts of their past speeches for Fitz's nomination speech and adapted it for my own Scandalous purposes! _


End file.
